On my morning walk I would often see Mr Effigy, sitting on the verandah.
He would just be staring into space, enjoying the morning Sun.
He just sat there on an old cane chair.
Sometimes I would wave but he never waved back.
Some said he had dementia or brain damage.
At other times I would see his wife Margaret pouring him a drink.
It looked like Whiskey and milk.
He was dressed very well with a black bow tie and a white shirt.
He had a grey cardigan on and grey matching trousers.
It was obvious that Margaret went to a lot of trouble,
to make him look presentable.
It wasn’t clear if he cared much about it or not.
Every morning Mrs Effigy would guide him to his chair and leave.
She only appeared at meal times and to take him in at night.
On day in late Spring I was walking past the house as usual.
Mr Effigy wasn’t there. All I could see was Margaret with a huge fire.
She was burning his clothes and his books and it looked like
she was burning his bed and his favourite chair.
For the first time ever she turned and smiled at me.
She waved and went back to the fire.
She looked like a person bringing forth life through fire.
She was in fact finally able to have a life of her own.
She called me over and started to cry.
“Do you know I’m happy he’s gone. If that makes me a terrible person
than so be it. I worked hard for the last twenty years making him comfortable,
I cleaned him and feed him and now I feel free.
I’m sorry but for me Love is just plain hard work.”
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2023 00:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments4
My comments on the poem "Love is hard work” by David Wakeling
I do understand this poem. I went through it myself. I looked after my Dad for many years but only got ingratitude in return. I would get up a few times at night to go and check on him at his house on the premises. It was very tiring and tough. Please see my poem “Full circle.” Later I will post the poem “Of ashes and waves” about his cremation. (This poem already appears on “allpoetry.com”).
Soman Ragavan. 21 August, 2023. //
Thank you for your comments.I will read your poems.
Such understandable words. My wife suffered and died from dementia and when she passed it it was a release for both of us. I never stopped loving her though but if anyone says they know about dementia and haven't been with somebody 24/7 for many years they just haven't got a f*****g clue about it.
Andy
Indeed.Sometimes its harder for the carer than the patient.I've been caring for my son, who has a mental illness for 30 years and I know how love is hard work.Sorry to hear about your wife but she is in a better place I'm sure
I guess it is. I tried to imagine that she didn’t show him that dedication and came to think that may have subtracted from her life, in the way she felt about herself? So maybe, in addition to that hard work the love she gave also served to complete her.
That's a good point.Either way its hard work.Thanks for commenting much appreciated
Dig!
I could relate to this both of my parents got Alzheimer's so sad I understand have a good day
Thanks for reading.Sorry to hear about your parents. Must be difficult
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