198. Halloween

Your husband

Healed

His back

With his

Mind.

None

Of your friends

Believe 

Him;

Know what

To think.

You’re going

To a dinner party

For Halloween—

Your husband

Selling snake oil;

You

Will be

Nine months

Pregnant.

Snake oil

Was my

Contribution;

Pregnant

Was his.

This morning

Over breakfast

You tell Vickie

“I’m just doing

What I’m told.”

Your husband

Laughs,

“That’s a first.”

He tells you—

“If you like it,

It was my idea;

If you don’t,

It was Page’s.”

Then he asks

You,

“Whose idea

Was it?”

“Page’s.”

Your dead

Pan

Delivery

Is not

A dead

Give away

Of anything—

And I wonder

How 

The old you 

Would feel

About your

Costume

If she were  

The new 

You?

Would she

Be willing

To break her mold

And have fun

Too? 

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.