117. Your Short Term Memory Works Just Fine

Your husband 

Rubbed your feet

And put you to bed

Like every night,

But this night 

You didn’t fall 

Right to sleep.

He was reading

In the other room

And you called for

“Mother.”

When he came to you,

You told him,

“I love you.”

He kissed you 

And left again.

Ten minutes passed

And you called again,

This time for Rody.

You didn’t want anything,

And your husband kissed you

Then left once more.

He settled back into his book;

You called for him again,

And then again.

Finally, he said to you,

“Now look, 

This is the fifth time 

You’ve called me in here.”—

Prone to exaggerate,

You set him straight, 

“No, 

It’s only the fourth.”

The Poetry of Dementia is an ongoing project to share my family’s journey with my mother’s illness as a year of moments. We do not know whether my mother will live a full year—or perhaps she’ll live longer. Her dementia has been a bittersweet and beautiful journey that has already taken us places we never imagined. Loving and caring for her at home has fundamentally changed each of us, and daily reminds us to live in the present with love, trust and patience. Click here to read from the beginning.