Unfinished sentences struggling over each syllable, letter, sound cane catching every nick in the fairly flat ground gazing at photos that eyes can't see remembering what they look like while fumbling to flip out the light lost on some withering path deep in the mind Muttering cryptic thoughts Despite the deterioration that makes you forget who I am I still love you Grandma
and I cherish the moments when clarity shines through even though you've told me the stories about that clock and the whale and the picture of Grandpa over and over sometimes you slip out a new piece of old life you are my luck my four leafed clover