He's gone. I'm alone. And I'm able to find nothing But a deep void inside. Now only memories are what I have And I need to find them - those memories - Must look in the place they might be Buried deep in the memory attic of my brain. I look and quickly find boxes scattered there, all to and fro Without organization or indication of what's inside; No word; no hint of what each might store or hide Right there in the memory attic of my brain. The boxes had been made safe and secure Closed tightly, shut with ribbons and bows Of every color - pink, yellow and blue, Green, red and purple, too. Others are shut with bands, string and rope of all kinds With a small number of boxes tightly sealed with tape, There in the deepest-black-darkened recesses Beneath the eaves in the memory attic of my brain. I decide to begin, not knowing where to start - what I will find, Blowing, brushing, removing the time-dusts gathered on their tops, Then slowly start to open the first box that I see To find what is stored inside it - that box found in the memory attic of my brain. Like the bellies of women abruptly pouched out hundreds of years back When their tight corsets were unbound and removed, Memories burst forth as if under pressure for years From that first-opened box stored in the memory attic of my brain. The memories I seek are those only of me with him The man whom I loved and lived with for those decades of years; The friendship; the love-seed which took root and then grew And kept us together - all cherished memories of time shared. Our adventures, our experiences as partners In the time he loved me and I loved him, When he always was him and I always was me, None lost, but carefully saved there in the memory attic of my brain.
I believe everyone should be treated with Dignity, Respect and to feel very Special! I helped take care of my Nana when she had dementia,my Mother decided she didn't or couldn't deal with caring for her Mother. I had a 3 yr old son Noah and was pregnant with twins at the time, But i wasn't about to leave my Nana on her own. My Nana passed away a couple yrs later, i was a stay at home mom of three boys. As my boys got older i needed to go back to work part time, there was a assisted living facility (Sunrise) just down the street I interviewed and they thought i would be a good fit for Memory Care which is more suited for people with different degrees of dementia. I Loved being there! it never felt like a job, I felt really blessed and honered be able to help a person get dressed and serve them breakfast and lunch,to be able to laugh and bring a beautiful smile to there face,listen and reminence about there life, Just to be there and comfort another human being who has possibly been forgotten by there own family. I am now a private care giver. I Love ,Love,Love every moment of this very important gift that God has given me. I truely believe that serving others is the most Precious expression of Love there is! People will say to me, 'you must have a lot of patience to be care giver' I just believe all Souls should be treated with Kindness and respect! As We ALL DO!
My Dad has AD. He taught me to dance. His feet still twitch when he listens to music. This was written for him. Come dance with me Daddy just one more time before you go and leave me behind. I guess I've been blind to the clues you have given That things weren't right in your life. But I closed my eyes and refused to believe that the big strong daddy I loved Could be in such pain and struggling alone toward the end of his life. Come dance with me daddy just one more time before you go and leave me behind. I hope I can make this journey of yours as easy as you've made mine And I hope in the future God gives me the chance To help you remember that you taught me to dance. You held me real tight while counting the steps and told me which way to turn Then we were floating and dancing like mad And I was so happy just dancing with Dad. Come dance with me daddy just one more time before you go and leave me behind. You've forgotten my name and the name of your wife And you don't recognize your boys But I hope for you, Daddy, with all of my heart That you remember just dancing for joy. Let me hold you real tight and count steps in your ear, Let me help with all of your turns, Let me lead when you need me and help you to find The joy of dancing one more time. Now when I pray I ask God for the chance To have with my Daddy just one last dance. Come dance with me daddy just one more time before you go and leave me behind.
poem by Leslie Gerber from my book "Lies of the Poets" (Post-Traumatic Press) Someone who looks like her is in the bed at night, at the table in the morning, walks with the dogs, but doesn’t talk like her, doesn’t wash her face, knows me as a shadow. Someone who sounds like her may answer the phone but doesn’t know what to say, when asked her name cannot respond, mixes up the dogs’ names, sometimes with mine. Someone who moves like her sometimes opens the door but doesn’t know old neighbors, cringes at the sight of the postman, looks at the mail as if it were a meteorite. Someone who feels like her reacts to a hug by hardening and then doesn’t feel like her. Retreats from water. Wants more clothes to protect her from touch. Someone who looks like her was once the sun and now sleeps on the dark side of the moon. When she wakes, she watches pages from her book as they float off into space.
My mother was the most amazing person I have ever known. She has been gone awhile now but I miss her every day and I 'talk' to her every day. She held down a full time high pressure job as a trail blazer in her field and raised 2 kids by herself after my Dad died. She was not perfect but she tried to be and everything she did was for us. She did know we were turning out pretty good and got to enjoy her 2 grandsons a while before she starting slipping away and I think this disease was the worst fate she could have faced. the blessing? By the time it was full blown she could not really express her frustration as I know she would have wanted to. We must find a way to control/cure/prevent this horrid process.
Sherrill Temple is my mom and in her late 60's she was diagnosed with dementia (Alzheimer's). I am her daughter and primary caregiver, and have been taking care of her for what will be 9 years in Jan. 2016. She had no doctor, no life insurance, very little health insurance, no will, and not a clue why she needed these things. There was something seriously wrong, this was not the mom I knew. No one stepped up to help my mom except me, and I was on my way back to Kansas City after going back to school at 40 and getting two degrees. Taking care of my mom, long term, was not in the plan. I was trying to give myself a better shot at life as I was getting older...that was the plan. But I had watched my mom work 2 and 3 jobs my entire young life so my brother and I could have everything. The way I saw this situation is that my mom had earned her placed in this world, and it became clear that she was going to lose the house and everything she had ever known, and that my brother could not be counted on. To be put in a home or assisted living, was not the answer for my mom, I believed she deserved to be a home that has been in our family for almost 100 years. This is where she belongs and it was her ONLY request. I have done everything to make sure that she is safe, and cared for in an environment that she knows. But this was not without sacrifice and loss on my part as family and caregiver. But personally, I could not just walk away. There is nothing in this for me, except to know I did the right thing when it mattered. My grandfather had Alzheimer's too, and there is every chance that I will have this disease as well. There is an answer...solution...cure to this disease, and we must never stop searching for it.
Alzheimer's Poem by Julie Stell Croxton (N Little Rock, AR USA) It comes without warning no sound, no sign. The person I know has again been left behind. In place of my mother is someone unknown A vicious, hurtful person has invaded my home. As I hang on and the abuse passes me by I know the person she was is still somewhere inside. So I wait and remember how life used to be When she once knew who I was when she once could see me. This change doesn't occur each and everyday When she knows who I am she will hug me and say "I love you Julie, for all that you do, I know I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you." How do you fight something so horrific that cannot be seen As it hides in the shadows it's intent to demean? I pray everyday that there will soon come a time When Alzheimer's is vanquished and this suffering has been left behind..... by julie stell croxton
This is for a dear friend of mind that passed away this last Saturday, his name is Frank Ohenmus. We met back in 1972 while I was dating one of his nieces, he did not like me but as time went by I grew on him. As the years passed we became very good friends. After I got divorced from his niece, he and his family went to my 2nd wedding. That meant a lot to me. Unfortunately as time passed we grew apart, but I was to some degree always in contact with him. He was the smartest man that I had ever met. He just passed away from the disease called Alzheimer’s, as you all know that is very hard to deal with as a caregiver, yet his loving family was there for him to the end. I am unable to say all that I would like to about this man, because of the restrictions on words to post. But, I want his family to know that I always loved him and his wife whom passed away a few years ago. He is now with her, and my sorrow goes out to his entire family. He was a great Naval Officer during his career and excelled in every aspect of his life. The picture of him he is in the middle, although it is about 25 plus years old, it is how I would like to remember him. I am grateful to have been a part of his life and his family, I will, as his family will, miss him very much. Rest in peace my friend, love Tim.
Like Her Someone who looks like her is in the bed at night, at the table in the morning, walks with the dogs, but doesn’t talk like her, doesn’t wash her face, knows me as a shadow. Someone who sounds like her may answer the phone but doesn’t know what to say, when asked her name cannot respond, mixes up the dogs’ names, sometimes with mine. Someone who moves like her sometimes opens the door but doesn’t know old neighbors, cringes at the sight of the postman, looks at the mail as if it were a meteorite. Someone who feels like her reacts to a hug by hardening and then doesn’t feel like her. Retreats from water. Wants more clothes to protect her from touch. Someone who looks like her was once the sun and now sleeps on the dark side of the moon. When she wakes, she watches pages from her book as they float off into space. (from my book "Lies of the Poets")
It is 4 am, I tucked My Honey in bed a few hours ago, I am sitting here having a moment alone, and tomorrow is my 60th birthday. I met John on a blind date 43 years ago. Next week will also be our 39th wedding anniversary. John was diagnosed with early onset 11 years ago at age 52. Who would have known at such a young age of 49 I would become a caregiver for the love of my life. We were both in denial for years and I searched Dr. after Dr. to tell me something different. He is now in stage 6 which is moderate to severe, I pray that the final stage does not come quick. Sometimes I feel selfish praying this because I know he is suffering and He tells me he just wants it to be over. I miss that man that was so independent, a leader of our family and such a good loving husband and father. We have one son, and my husband keeps remembering taking him to the school bus stop in his military uniform, Our son Johnny went to military school 1st and 2nd grade. We now have a beautiful daughter in law Iaisha, and Jeremiah and Hannah our 2 grandchildren. They help their grandpa when they see him. They know he is sick, but are too young to understand what is happening. It breaks my heart to see them take him by the hand and guide him where he needs to go. Also my Honey will not be able to experience his grandchildren the way we had hoped for. He tells me he will never forget me because I am His Love, his brain, and his helper. We have had a wonderful life together. These last 11 years have been difficult and so heartbreaking but I give thanks to God for allowing me to be home with him everyday. We were both able to retire at our young age right after he was diagnosed. This is our story and I continue to pray for a cure. God bless.