I remember you tall. Running marathons with ease as the Portland breeze was my only relief as I Staggered behind to a crawl, you – you
You turned back, Picked me up and said the blisters on my Feet showed a need to push harder – to attack and I – I wanted to keep going. To fight through tears and blisters
Sitting in the corner of your office. Small firm accounting. Where I had my first Toffee, you excelled at numbers, serving rich and crass You smilled, sipped your coffe, flipped through pages fast One day, you went to the store. You came back empty-handed, like a child forgetting a chore, you you looked confised, but your wrinkled smile didn’t fade. At least, not until you At least, not until you – you You Forgot my name.
A life is a collection of memories And hopes And for you – for you -for you that was Fading
My fear wasn’t as loud as The “nope” I was saying
Like all My well wishes could stop The ***** you were slipping Like – like
Like I could have the audacity To force you into Into staying Your gray beard, your Coffee staining your shirts and Your jackets Weighing heavy
The tracks My Tears were laying when your
Your last word to me was “hey” Trying to stop Stop my crying in vain
Now These jackets weighing Weighting too heavy on grandma, she She put them on my shoulders The soft leather Felt more like a Boulder, my My My arms Slipped through the sleeves, Sleeves crawled at the wrist Funny, I remembered you tall
Alzheimer's is horrific, and its effects on the families are profound.