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Living For The Lucid Moments | Coping With Dementia


As I look into her eyes, my own stare back at me,
Her confusion tries to hide itself, in moments of lucidity,
Every visit, I search for ways to spark her recognition,
‘Not today,’ ‘just go away!’ words put down to her ‘condition,’
Her pupils are like pin-pricks, piercing through my soul,
Looking for answers, my confusion mounts and starts to take its toll,
‘Bereaved again,’ she’s fed the news for the third time this week,
Not knowing ‘what’ or ‘how’ to say, silence reaches its peak,
Paranoia pounces, like a panther with its prey,
Stagnated sentences trickle out, in the most awkward way,
Blame boxes his way in; no-one’s left standing,
Happiness, competence, certainty are taking a fierce pounding,
Mood-swings, delusionary blows, confidently sweep the floor,
As they expertly obliterate, the person that was there before,
Adjusting my life to accommodate, the stranger in the bed,
Hand rails, commode, Zimmer-frame; all care-package led,
Feeling lost was started by her, now it ends with me,
Overwhelmed, forgotten, mistrusted, becomes my only fee,
But I’m living for the lucid moments as she looks at me,
I’m searching for a trace of the person, that she used to be,
I’m hoping to make more memories, before all her smiles are done,
But most of all, more than anything; I’m looking for my mum…..

Poem by D. Meddings


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