Oh the words, I would say to you
about all the things you do.
You cared for me, over the years.
Now I care for you
as your mind disappears .

I am here.
You are not.
Our children grown,
a love sought,
from each other,
during journey's life.
We are still
husband and wife.
My thoughts gone,
from my head.
A mental state,
I now dread,
seeing you allow,
here and now,
fills my heart,
with my vow,
of loving you,
is my joy
and I do
all this for
you to see
the better part
of older me.

Marriage, is not a Contact Sport.

I am not a recluse,
but maybe I should
be, with my head of wood,
for my sister, who I adore,
likes Trump, will be no more
on my mind, that's now for sure,
when you idolize and excuse
his behavior by words you choose.

Where do you go, every day?
You're not here, your far away.
What thoughts run through your head?
Watching TV, you'll ask of me,
"What did they say?"
I don't know if you can see
when you ask and it's on TV.
I do know that if I say," give me the remote",
you will pick up everything but
and ask, "Is this it?'
I can't imagine what I would do
if it was me, in that state,
instead of you.

I am now alone,
unlike the past.
No flowing discussion,
just wordy chaff.
No recollection of our daily drive.
No memory, stripped clear of thought.
She couldn't recall the food I bought
only minutes before,
but when I told her a fact,
she would come back
to the subject, asking about who
so I begin guessing, it's what I do.

Rid those of this disease you have,
for I abhor what I now see.
When you are in the "Sundowner Phase"
you ask many questions off the wall.
Questions that I know not at all.
"Do you remember that young man?"
I'll say, "I can't recall, unless
there are more specifics, for my guess".
I'll say, "Recently or long ago?"
She will say, "I don't know."

Forget me not, she spoke to me.
I ask questions for I have no memory.

He writes of love.
He writes of hate.
He writes of life.
He writes a date,
About all his worries
Of concerns in life,
And the slow demise
Of his lovely wife.

When you pound on the table
with your left and right hand,
are you striving for attention
as I don't understand?

Clothes are strewn every where
across the bed, upon the chair.
Try them on, toss to the floor,
try something else and try more.
Don't put them away
that's not your chore.

I'm incredibly humbled to have been included in this series on Honest Chatter.

I'd been following Melody on Instagram for some time before we finally met at an event. She's as beautiful on the inside as she is in her photos.

To be surrounded by people like this fills my heart with such joy.

I am proud of you
for you don't complain,
although I'm sure
you have mental pain.
No memory of objects,
no recalling days,
but if items are
missing, you will say,
"Something's not right."
I tell you now. Every day,
loving you this time
is what I must do,
for I miss the lovely you.

I'm so blessed to be surrounded by such an amazing tribe!

This list is comprised of gifts other new moms and I received that made those first few months so much better. Some gifts are more expensive than others. Others require nothing more than time. And, there are those gifts which new moms have given themselves.

But, each one means the world.

We lived in Rainer Beach,
South of Seattle, not far away.
School was starting in a week;
my Mother and I decided to seek,
some new clothes for this one.
That was me, her oldest Son.
We got on the bus, she took a seat.
I sat a few feet behind her,
as she was pregnant
and I was in my teens.
I was embarrassed at being seen with her.
I regret that day and what I did.
Not very nice to my Mother's love.
She never said anything to me,
for she was the kindest soul
I ever did see.
Miss you Mom.

I hear her voice,
in the morning hour.
"Hello, are you awake?
are you in there?"
Then she will ask of me,
"What do I do now?"
She has no memory
of what or how
to proceed with her day.
I explain to her, she needs
some clothes and show
her the way down the stairs.
She no longer puts her pills out
as she used to do, so I do that
now, just for her.
I'll fix her breakfast and a cup
of tea, then I will fix
something for me.

Why do I feel alone at night,
when she lies so close to me?
It's because she knows not my name,
and that is our fate and destiny.

As I sit here, at darkest night;
Memories from years gone by,
About meeting my wife
For the very first time.
It wasn't at a social function
Or in a bar.
My friend, Frank and I
Were in his car,
And tried to pick up these two,
Ellensburg girls. Of course they
ignored us, the two country bumpkins,
From another school. We left then,
Away, in a roar.
I didn't see her again, until Frank and I
Went to a dance, at the YMCA.
The music was playing; we wanted to dance.
I walked over to her and said, "Would
You like to dance?".
She said Yes, my heart did a flutter.
A few dances more, on that glorious night;
It was then I realized that I was smitten.
What a wonderful memory. Remembering, I can
Unfortunately, she doesn't remember at all.
No matter what, I will always recall
That wonderful night when we said hello.

Every mom and every baby is different. But around here, these were the essentials our first month home.

I am losing touch with reality
on this darkening, rainy day.
I'm unsure of this pending finality
and if she will go or stay.

She tells me, "take me to the home,
for that is where I'll be,
the rest of this mortal life;
I'll soon be leaving thee".