I remember you tall.
Running marathons with ease as the
Portland breeze was my only relief as I
Staggered behind to a crawl, you – you
You turned back,
Picked me up and said the blisters on my
Feet showed a need to push harder – to attack and I –
I wanted to keep going. To fight through tears and blisters
Sitting in the corner of your office.
Small firm accounting. Where I had my first
Toffee, you excelled at numbers, serving rich and crass
You smilled, sipped your coffe, flipped through pages fast
One day, you went to the store. You
came back empty-handed, like a child forgetting a chore, you
you looked confised, but your wrinkled smile didn’t fade.
At least, not until you
At least, not until you – you
You
Forgot my name.
A life is a collection of memories
And hopes
And for you – for you
-for you that was
Fading
My fear wasn’t as loud as
The “nope” I was saying
Like all
My well wishes could stop
The ***** you were slipping
Like – like
Like I could have the audacity
To force you into
Into staying
Your gray beard, your
Coffee staining your shirts and
Your jackets
Weighing heavy
The tracks
My
Tears were laying when your
Your last word to me was “hey”
Trying to stop
Stop my crying in vain
Now
These jackets weighing
Weighting too heavy on grandma, she
She put them on my shoulders
The soft leather
Felt more like a
Boulder, my
My
My arms
Slipped through the sleeves,
Sleeves crawled at the wrist
Funny, I remembered you
tall
Alzheimer's is horrific, and its effects on the families are profound.
