No Longer At Home.

Goldfinch60



Two years ago,

Two years ago to day

Was that last time,

That last time when I rose,

When I rose from my bed

With my wife laying there.

I turned to her and kissed her,

Kissed her as if to say good bye.

When I next went to bed

I would be alone,

No more cuddles in bed,

Not more saying “I love you”

As we went to sleep.

This fucking dementia

Had taken her,

Taken her from me.

Over those five years

She went further and further away

Until that day come

When I could cope no more,

My caring for her had brought me down,

Down so low in myself

That others had to care for her.

So on this day,

This day two years ago

I took her away from our home

To a  Care Home,

A place where they looked after her,

Looked after her so well,

I saw her so many times in that home,

But she was not in our home.

 

If people say they know about dementia

But have not lived with it

Twenty four hours a day,

Seven days a week,

THEY HAVEN’T A FUCKING CLUE!!!!!

  • Author: Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 19th, 2021 01:15
  • Comment from author about the poem: Sorry about using the F words but I cannot seem to use the word dementia without putting that word in front of it. I would not wish it on anybody. Joyce went into the care home 19th July 2019. The music seems to say it all.
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 53
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments7

  • Saxon Crow

    Sending you love on this shitty reminder day GF

    • Goldfinch60

      Thank you SC, much appreciated.

      Andy

    • Neville


      I'm with the Crow Andy and mark my words sir, I'm certain pretty soon there will be a whole flock of us here (I know that should be a murder of us) but ...


      • Goldfinch60

        Thank you Neville.

        Andy

      • dusk arising

        So sad Andy. I have seen some of dementia's evil and respect your first hand knowledge.
        Let us hope, as always, for new discoveries in preventing this and other afflictions which haunt our approaching years.

        • Goldfinch60

          Thank you d a, Yes let us hope new discoveries can be found to annihilate this awful problem. Mind you the last figure that I heard was that there are 223 different type of dementia.

          Andy

        • Doggerel Dave

          That’s more like it, Andy. No more of your sweetness and light memories – reality impinges. Better the anger - that’s reality.
          I’ve seen quite a number of early onset dementia folks (can occur as early as the ‘40’s) - so consider yourself lucky you had so long with Joyce.
          Not particularly helpful to you –but it does make me realize that there is nothing of me (no spirit, identity beyond this mortal coil) which exists after I cark it.
          Enjoyed your anger - it makes a change.

          • Goldfinch60

            Thank you for your words Dave, I do not often get angry but this problem is a right pain in the proverbial!

            Andy

            • Doggerel Dave

              And you have my every sympathy, Andy. It is a terrifying, disgusting way to go, and to watch someone you love slowly disappear bit by bit must be more than heartbreaking. I just felt your anger was so justified and real I had to comment. Although it was probably possible for me to do it more gently....which I'm not good at.

            • L. B. Mek

              impassioned fury, at that ill-fate
              of destiny's despairingly, demoralising injustice
              should never be mistaken
              for that 'self-loathing harbouring: anger,
              of modern societies, pitifully senile fool's..'
              see, when you've given everything
              to that one thing, you hoped, prayed, wished
              and sacrificed, to keep - 'whole'
              for as long as you draw breath, then you're entitled
              to vent and express, your raw - suffering
              in worded fury;
              its a human, tool for survival - to insure
              we don't all end-up, like 'those loathsome few
              who would rather see the world burn and give-in'
              than find that self-worth from within
              and do the work, the rest of us
              grudgingly, embrace
              as our hope fuelled - fight, to survive
              and imbue meaning: in this - our one, and only
              taste of a short-lived, existence...!
              really liked that raw emotionality
              you conveyed in this write, Andy
              let it all out!
              'only then will you have that space
              to realise and cherish
              that subtle, embrace - when next
              'She': comes to visit'

              • Goldfinch60

                She will always be with me Mek and one day we will be together once more travelling the ether.

                Andy

              • SureshG

                In the seething pain of your words, I read the intensity of love for Joyce, that I humbly admire.

                • Goldfinch60

                  THank you Suresh, that love has always been there and always will be.

                  Andy

                • Thekkinkkattil

                  No words can describe your frustration and grief but you have made us all feel the intensity .Admire the way you penned it. My prayers for you and Joyce and the love you shared

                  • Goldfinch60

                    Thank you for your kind words, much appreciated.

                    Andy



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