On one of our last visits,
I pointed to the sky and said,
“oh, mom, look! —
look at that bird flying above us!”
and she said, “what I see is
a long, long line of energy.”
And her world was different and good.
She was a realist:
she often said she was demented. She said one time,
“if we sound scattered,
it is because we are.”
And her world was different and good.
She only forgot me once.
Riding in the car, she asked my name.
A moment of shock and then I said, “Dee. My name is Dee.”
And she said, “oh, that’s my daughter’s name.”
Cheerful, happy.
And then she remembered I was her daughter and she
rejoiced. And we both celebrated.
And her world was different and good.
Sometimes I miss my time in that world —
all present tense, joyful,
loving, uncomplicated.
Birds, roses, the sounds of tambourines and piano,
voices lifted in song drifting to the memory care patio.
The water splashing in the fountain next to us.
True.
Together.
Timeless.
Her world: different and good.
Okay, this one hit me hard. I absolutely LOVE this – dementia is such a hard thing to watch, but you’ve captured your love for your mother so well. Very powerful poem, and your repeated line is perfection. Thank you so much for writing this!
Thank you so much, Erin. I really appreciate your response to this poem.
There are so many moments in this that are powerful and resonating, but this one stanza held me completely in it’s hands:
She only forgot me once.
Riding in the car, she asked my name.
A moment of shock and then I said, “Dee. My name is Dee.”
And she said, “oh, that’s my daughter’s name.”
Cheerful, happy.
And then she remembered I was her daughter and she
rejoiced. And we both celebrated.
And her world was different and good.
Thank you, Caitlin. I appreciate your response.
So beautiful and bittersweet, it evokes emotion in the reader
Thank you, Susan!