A Day in Dementia



You say goodbye a little each day. You bear with tantrums as you try to understand their world. You let yourself down every day and every day you swear to never again forget that she doesn’t remember, that she doesn’t know. You surprise yourself with tears of frustration because you cannot give more, do more, care more. You blame yourself for not wanting to see her like this while knowing that ‘this’ is the best things will get. You know this is a countdown to oblivion, to nowhere.

You eye the grey hair on you head ever increasing and you realise that winter will be here soon, both inside and out. You fight  not to give in to the voice that repeats its lament in your mind :” When is it going to be my turn…?”. Frankly, nobody knows. Perhaps when the grey hair wins over, when the sun starts going down on the horizon. Perhaps when you take your mother’s place in the Granny chair, with wandering eyes, dry hopes, lost opportunities and dead wishes.

Te despides poco a poco, todos los dias. Te llevas berrinches, intentando entender su mundo. Te decepcionas de tí misma a diario, y a diario Te juras no volver a olvidar que Ella no recuerda, que no sabe… Y Te sorprendes a tí misma con lágrimas de rabia e impotencia de no poder dar más, ser mejor, querer más… Y Te culpas por no querer verla así, y sabes que esto es lo mejor que vas a estar, que estás en una cuenta atras, en una cuesta abajo lenta e inexorable hacia ninguna parte o hacia todas… Y Te lamentas Cuando ves las Canas en Tu cabeza que ganan terreno y echas cuenta de que enseguida Será invierno, fuera y dentro. Procuras no rendirte a esa voz que Te aturde con su lamento ‘ y yo…¿cuando me toca?’ Pues, francamente, ni se sabe… Tal vez Cuando las canas venzan, Cuando ya el Sol se esconda, Cuando reemplaces a Tu madre en el sillón de la abuela, con los ojos perdidos, las Esperanzas secas, el futuro pasado, las oportunidades baldías y las ganas de vivir, muertas.

4 thoughts on “A Day in Dementia

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    1. Imagine mixing vascular dementia in my mom with my youngest son’s Asperger… some days it’s draining and makes you doubt your sanity. In spite of these challenges I am grateful because they have in some ways made me stronger and more empathetic towards others and their struggles. The rule for me is : If you don’t live it, you don’t get to judge it.

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