Her People

I’m a foreigner, though, I call her grandma. I sit with her, feed her, hold her hand, calm her, take walks with her, and used to care for her. But, my face will never be familiar and though my presence may be enough, it will never fully be comforting. She wants you, her people. You,…

Selfish or Selfless: Caring for the Elderly

You know them and just maybe you think of them once in a while. They are alive, or one of them still is. They raised you until you were weaned, helped develop your character, encouraged, and supported you, until you left the house. Or just maybe they didn’t; they were heartless, life sucking, and you…

Losing You

Walking away is the best I can do as you cry yourself to sleep at 4:42pm. For all you know it’s morning, as you have the last few months at this time. You are confused, but you don’t know why, you are incorrigible, nothing will help the situation, thus is the reason I must step…

Half Awake

I lay here in my dark bedroom listening to the sound of water, when metal shower curtain hooks scrap across a metal shower bar pulling me straight out of my dream state. Immediately, all I could say out loud in a whiny voice was, “Nooohoho!” It’s 3am…dementia is awake. It has no concept of time,…

Becoming Someone Else: a fading memory

I wish sometimes I had a little camera on my glasses so I can visually show my parents the situation when I explain it to them later than 4:30am.  I faintly hear my voice in the dark surrounding my dream state. In a panic, I open my sleepy eyelids and wait for sound to break…

Dementia’s Confusion

Dementia can be sad; I think most people see it that way. But, I choose to find it humorous, because who wants to be sad when you are spending time with someone losing their mind? So, even though most conversations sound like a broken record, it brings some good humor, not only to me, but…

Coloring Outside the Lines

You are a child of five years, reverting back to 1924. Your hair white with age, the same style as when your father cut it, as you have shown me in old photographs. Your sense of wonder is that of your youth, curious about every written word and repetitive verbiage you hear. But not just…

Letting go from 3,000 miles

Visiting you I see how the dementia feeds off of your brain daily, as though you are its meal. When you come back to me in unannounced moments, your eyes clear themselves from the muck and the most beautiful light blue pierces me. Your body has withered and its function is slowing, too fast for…