Thursday, 3 December 2015

Forget me not

Our regular followers will know that Alzheimer's is a subject I have written about several times and one that I have had some personal experience with as I had a grandmother whose decline from the disease, I witnessed first-hand. It's a sad disease on many fronts, but I think hardest for the family is seeing a person who they recognize but who bears no resemblance to the person they once knew. Harder still is the moment you realize that the person who has known you for your entire life, no longer recognizes you.

Almost daily, we read in the news about the 'silver tsunami' we will experience in the not too distant future and often, we read of predictions of the number of people who will succumb to dementia in the coming years. We can only hope that in rapid progress will be made in terms of treatment, maintenance and care of those who are unfortunate enough to develop a disease that robs them of their mind, spirit and the very essence of who they are. 

It is not often that I post other people's work but, I came across a poem the other day that reminded me of my grandmother and all of the other seniors and their families that I have known over the years shared similar stories. Given our followers and the forum that this blog is, I decided it would be something worth sharing with all of you. My thanks to Joann Snow Duncanson who so eloquently has been able to say what so many families feel.


Two Mothers Remembered
by Joann Snow Duncanson
I had two Mothers – two Mothers I claim
Two different people, yet with the same name.
Two separate women, diverse by design,
But I loved them both because they were mine.
The first was the Mother who carried me here,
Gave birth and nurtured and launched my career.
She was the one whose features I bear,
Complete with the facial expressions I wear.
She gave me her love, which follows me yet,
Along with the examples in life that she set.
As I got older, she somehow younger grew,
And we’d laugh as just Mothers and daughters should do.
But then came the time that her mind clouded so,
And I sensed that the Mother I knew would soon go.
So quickly she changed and turned into the other,
A stranger who dressed in the clothes of my Mother.
Oh, she looked the same, at least at arm’s length,
But now she was the child and I was her strength.
We’d come full circle, we women three,
My Mother the first, the second and me.
And if my own children should come to a day,
When a new Mother comes and the old goes away,
I’d ask of them nothing that I didn’t do.
Love both of your Mothers as both have loved you.

No comments: