The boys have gone
David was the last to leave.
Quiet descended and
stillness blanketed the house.

We were two alone
living our dreams,
carefree by day
romantic by night.

One word was all it took
shattering our world,
dashing our hopes
changing everything.

There must be some mistake.
no cure.
He is too young
so much we have not done.

The nightmares have begun
of horrors yet to come,
years upon years
a steady decline.

Together
yet so alone,
one of us is here
the other is slipping away.

There we were
poised on the brink of
tomorrow,
ready to plunge into the depths.

There we were
waiting to explore the
unknown,
to sail into the horizon.

There we were
with our hopes and our
dreams
falling to ashes around us.

What’s in a word
to frighten you,
to make you cry?

It’s just a word
an odd word,
a name.

Once the word is spoken
your world falls apart,
shattering dreams.

A word, one word
it cannot be true.
I won’t let it be true.

Alzheimer’s

They say my loved one
died.
It is not him beside
me.

A stranger has come
instead
to share life with
me.

Someone so very
different
so withdrawn from
me.

Why did he
go
without taking
me?

Will he return
and
remember
me?

Should he be told
or left in peace?

Should I continue to lie
to pretend?

Should I act like all is well
plan our tomorrow?

Should I hope for the best
do nothing?

Should I hide him away
from embarrassment?

Today he took me in his arms,
he held me tight.

He told me that he loved me;
he kissed me.

I won’t think about tomorrow,
will he remember who I am?

Tomorrow’s too far in the future,
I’m too happy with today.

Tomorrow arrived this afternoon
bringing heartache and pain.

What I said got twisted,
What I did only confused.

To keep the tears from falling,
I remember yesterday.

And hope that joy will come again,
Tomorrow…

I took him to the doctor this afternoon,
the wait was extra long.
He kept asking why he was there;
there was nothing wrong with him.

The doctor wanted to chat with him
to see and evaluate
an antidepressant drug.
He’s been taking for a week or two.

I guess I was hoping for a miracle.
The little pill was working.
Our troubles would soon be gone
the world would soon be ours.

But instead the words were of comfort,
none were of hope.
The pills were only making it easier
for him to cope for now.

He still is unaware,
there’s anything wrong.
He doesn’t see my tears;
he can’t focus on what is real.

One day he said to me –

“Will there be a time
for just the two of us?”

So many people visiting,
that only he can see.

The phone rings day and night,
and only he can hear it.

“Let’s go away together;
spend some time alone

just the two of us.”

It’s uncanny,
to watch the many symptoms
unfold in front of you.

It’s spooky,
routine tasks once done with ease
are each day’s new challenges.

It’s eerie,
information he’s known for years
are each day’s new discoveries.

It’s scary,
telephone dialing mystifies him,
driving skills have faded.

It’s alarming,
abilities I take for granted,
it’s as if they never were to him.

It’s frightening,
he needs help to shave,
he’s forgotten how to write a check.

It’s terrifying,
his speech is often slurred,
thoughts unfinished for lack of words.

It’s horrible,
what part of him will die tonight,
what else is there to loose?

I’m tired of always
smiling
to keep the tears
away.

I’m tired of always
pretending
our world is bright
and gay.

I’m tired of always
coping
with the burdens along
the way.

I’m tired of watching
him die
a little more
each day.