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Jan 2017
Deep lines, silky skin and unforgiving wrinkles
Silver hairs and vacant, jaded eyes
An empty smile, detached from authentic emotion
“Take care of yourself” you always said.
Take care of yourself, Grandma.

Incomprehensible words and disorientation
Terrorized by the slightest movement
Withdrawn from conversation
And difficulty recognizing relationships
It’s me, Grandma, it’s me.

You sit beside me, eyes wide and body alert
You’re right here but the distance is undeniable
Look into my eyes, don’t you remember?
These are your eyes, the ones you gave to Mama,
The ones she gave to me.

Emptiness behind those chestnut eyes
You abandoned me here, while I stare into them
Your body present but your mind absent
A separation of the soul and the being
I can’t let you go, Grandma, you’re right beside me.

But you aren’t my grandma, are you?
No--You are unaware of who I am
And I don’t know who you are.

Dementia, dementia, disappear.
Bring me back my grandma.
Melissa Banks
Written by
Melissa Banks  Los Angeles
(Los Angeles)   
908
     King and ---
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