Magazine Posts

It flowed like a rocket,
shot to the Moon,
and stuck to the horizon,
like the molasses
clung to a spoon.
Using hot water would
have been better for me,
as I cooked with passion,
making a dish for thee.

Will you still remember me,
when I see you today?
I really hope you will,
and for this, I pray.

When I think about tomorrow,
a time which may never be,
my dream for the morrow
is to always be with thee.

From all the past beginnings,
a life spent as We,
there will be a great sorrow,
at a time, which may never be.

Where are the memories,
which we can no longer see?
Are they all forgotten,
a remembering will never be?

My love for you, a given
is there for the World to see,
please stay with me forever,
as a part of my best memory.

Hammer me down,
like a nail through a board.
My spirit is hurting,
where are you Lord?
The anguish I see
in my wife today
will remain here,
the rest of the day.

It matters not.
Not to me,
For I recall,
a life to be.
Laughter rang
throughout the room,
no sight of impending doom
and yet, we're here today,
smothered with gloom,
no happy thought, just disarray,
as most rationale thinking,
is missing and gone away.

I have been spending considerable time
with my wife, as she transitions and adjusts
to living in a Memory Care Facility.
During this time I will join her for her
evening meal and sit with her and other
residents of the facility. The range of
those in the facility will vary over most
every situation.
One lady, lovely tells of her time as a
dance instructor and is always doing
crossword puzzles, constantly. I talk to
her and she always ask for my name and
month of birth. She is lovely and easy to
talk with. Others may have unique activities
such as an obsession to pick up every crumb
or article on the floor or on the furniture.
She also likes to dance and will often be
dancing instead of eating. She dances with grace
and seems to know all the lyrics for all the old
songs. She is pleasant and always acknowledges
my presence by stating my name.
Yes, there are some others, who want to hold a
toy doll or a stuffed animal. They are quiet,
unassuming and will talk to you. All have issues,
of varying degrees but most are very sociable.
They are not scary or someone you would believe
to have any memory issues other than they are
there as a resident.
There are a few who are vocal with their issues, to
the point of distraction but they are few in numbers.
I can say I have made friends with most of them although
I realize many won't remember. My wife is adapting.
She calls me "My Husband." She does not know my name
but she tells me she loves me many times. I do not
like seeing her losing all of our memories but do cherish
the words, I Love You heard every day.

When the walls of life
begin to crumble,
when your memories
have turned to dust,
where will you be tomorrow?
Who is it you can trust?

I've written of words
and how they're used
in taking you places,
near and far.
How surprised I am,
for while in a bar,
I talked to a person,
about his new car.
I asked about the
Model and Make.
He said to me,
"Why do you ask questions,
about something so vague?
I can't afford a new car.
What I said was a mistake."

A Lonely Path was not chosen
as a goal for my latest life
Who would choose such a sad
Path? My lovely wife is a victim
of unwanted disease. Dementia
now moving into Alzheimers.
A slow dance of memory loss.
Many moments of indecision.
Not knowing what to do when
getting ready for bed.

Those days of old
we're exciting
but dangerous.
Driving the Yakima
River canyon road,
at top speed,
pedal to the metal.
We would race on
the 2 lane, highway.
It was a crazy thing to do,
but we had fun and believed
we were immortal.

What happened to life,
where did it fail?
My wife is confined
in a memory jail.
No more the friends
to visit with she,
as the word Dementia
caused most to flee.
What must I share?
Holding her tight
in my arms, to help
her to be not lonely at night?
I see her as often
as I can possibly do
and protect her from the harm
she has fallen into.

Am I embittered?
Yes I am.
Life was not to be
As ugly,
as today.
My loving friend
Has gone away.