I sit at the table – alone.
My loved one away for a week
To give me a rest,
A rest from her dreadful dementia.
It is so hard,
She is in a world of her own
Where I almost don’t exist.
I do everything for her,
I lead two lives,
And the second one
Is so exhausting.
No rest, day or night
So these days alone
Help me to recover,
But here on Saturday evening,
The meal prepared as usual,
I sit at the table – alone.