anymore. He can’t come home
for Sunday night’s supper. You
can’t drive over to give him
his brownies. You can’t play

puzzles on the floor. You must
rely on others to take care of his
most intimate needs. You pray that
they don’t hurt him or that he doesn’t

come down with this disease. It spreads
so fast in these care facilities. He can’t
tell you how he feels or what he’s going
through. So, you worry. And you drink. And

you worry some more, until you’re climbing
the ceilings and stomping the floor. You
resent all the others who are safe at home
with their loved ones when yours is out

there alone. And nobody understands this,
the restless, sleepless nights when you lie
awake asking “what if.” You haven’t gotten
a full night’s sleep since. And when they don’t

call or answer you think the worst. Your
mind goes there over and again. Your mind
is your enemy. It’s never been your friend. And
you feel like you’re headed for a break-down.
You’re anguish is your thorny crown.