207. Your Age is a Figure of Speech

Lost 

In your imagined

World,

You tell us

“I can’t believe

I let them talk me into—”

Neither of us know

Who 

Or 

What

You speak of,

And like a radio

With poor reception,

Your meaning

Lapses.

When it comes through again

You say—

“I’d like to think

I’m old enough

To know better.” 

I wonder how old

You think 

You are,

While your husband 

Assures you

Age 

Has nothing

To do—

With anything. 

“I’m eleven months

Older,”

He shares,

“And just the other day

In Walmart

I let a friend

Talk me into buying

A rice cooker.” 

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.