174. Screwed Up

You wouldn’t 

Get out of bed

This morning.

We all took turns

Trying 

To coax you—

Convince you.  

I laid down 

With the cat

And the dog

And you. 

You asked me,

“How would you like

To be told

When to screw?”

Your hallucinations,

So you tell us,

Tell you 

What to do.

They want you 

To “screw” 

Outdoors—

With everybody

Watching. 

You tell me,

“Sex should be 

Spontaneous;

Unscripted

Is much better.” 

I try to reassure you;

To dispel your illusions. 

I tell you 

Not to worry,

That no one 

Is having sex.

To which you reply,

“Well then—

I’m leaving.” 

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.