Since I have entered this world of dementia that we are all living in I have had a difficult time expressing the overwhelming sadness that I have felt regarding my husbands placement in a nursing home. I have tried to express this in the following prose.
The Shadow by Dellmc53 I walked in and there you were A shadow of who you used to be I smiled and so did you, we enjoyed a moment of connection For only a moment...and then you were gone.
What happened to the strong man who swung our boys around and around on the playground years ago? I can see him now...laughing and so happy. "We are family" you said. And my joy was complete. I had you and the kids. I thought it would last forever. How wrong I was.
I walked in and there you were asleep in the chair, mouth hanging open, struggling for air I could not wake you up, so I took your hand and held it. Our hearts are tied together, you and I, but nothing is the same. Only I know who you are and you cannot say my name.
Every time I leave I have the image in my mind, you sitting with the Cowboys blanket spread over you. "It is special you would say. Corie gave it to me. I say, yes I know.
You ask for a phone but you call it a squeaker because the word phone is gone from you. Such a smart man you have always been, and even now a glimmer of your wit shines through but only a shadow.
How do we navigate these stormy waters my love? You have always been my rock and the rudder of the ship of our life. I lay in the bed at night and wonder. There is no guide book, no teaching manual, no pattern to follow....
so I hold your hand when I can, hug you and touch your frame that is only a shadow and tell you.... we are going to make it to the other side, you and I.... through this last trip of our lives together.
As I walk out the door you lift your hand to wave goodbye....and I cry.
Indeed, the overwhelming sadness. Beyond comprehension isn't it. I feel it too. All the time and thankfully it ebbs and flows but never leaves. If you don't mind, I would like to copy this prose and print it to carry around to come back to. It is beautiful and so clearly describes this disease and what is does to our loved one and us. Thank you sincerely.
I encourage you to see about getting this published. I would like to share it with the dementia consultant working with me but won't as it comes from here.
Tears coming down in bucket here as well as I read your words. It is beautiful and as katherincs says it describes this disease and what is does to us and our loved one
Of course you may print it. If it brings you any solace at all then I am happy. And yes the sadness just overwhelms me and tears flow out of my soul. I have loved this man for 36 years and now he is gone. One inch at a time they leave us and every inch steals another piece of our lives. I am trying to find a way to cope with this and writing seems to help. Thanks for your kind words.
I also cried when I read this earlier tonight, and I could not find the words to respond. Your prose is so poignant, and can't help but touch anyone who has had to deal with this terrible disease the way we have.
I read your poem over and over. It so beautifully describes the overwhelming sadness and pain I have felt since my husband went into the nursing home 8 months ago. It IS, as Joan said, a physical as well as an emotional pain. Thank you for sharing this with us.
That says it all for me too. It has Been two months since placing my DH. Only those here can understand this pain and grief I am feeling. I had our girls home for the weekend. We visited DH two days. But it made the pain even worse. The first time they were both at home without DH. It should have been better having them with me at the house, but it made me more aware of my loneliness and grief. DH loved having the girls home. At the facility, walking around with them, I saw him look at them with the look of who are these people. Broke my heart. He will not remember they were even here when I visit him today. I have been walking around numb, no tears lately, but the flood gates opened again this weekend.