We sit together, our love shining from us,
We talk,
She says something,
We talk about it,
Then she repeats it
As though we had never spoken of it.
I repeat my reply
That she has not remembered.
I say something,
We discuss it,
I mention it again
But she says that I hadn’t told her.
This scenario continues,
Continues throughout the day.
We are talking about one thing,
The context changes,
She talks of something else.
We move on ,
And she goes back
To that which we were talking about,
Or she goes back in her life,
Talking of things she said happened,
But did not.
My days are filled with this,
So that when I meet friends,
Or family,
Or acquaintances,
And I can have intelligent conversations
It means so much to me,
It means so much
To talk to people who understand,
Who remember the subject,
And have sound opinions,
No matter what the subject.
My life, surrounded by my wife’s dementia,
Is so hard,
And the thing that I am realising
That I miss the most,
Is intelligent conversation.
But I still love her.