183. Worried Sick

I wonder

If a lifetime

Of constant


Brought on

Your current


This conditioned


We all share—






Darkness fell

And you told me

“This is the time

Of night

When I get scared.”

I asked you why?

And you replied,

“I worry about 

The children

Getting home.”

I assured you

That the children

Were fine, 

You had nothing

To fear. 

Then you told me,

“I know; 

I know I don’t need

To worry,

But I’ve got

A good case

Of the worries.”

You told me then,

“I’m working on it,

But it takes


And I wonder—

When we heal

Our worries

Do we heal

Our minds? 

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.