(Poor Richard mourns his long lost father,
lost to that void of nothingness.)
Poor Richard, heavy hearted,
filial duty now departed,
how could he have ever loved this man,
this stranger in his father’s body.
Hero that he was, his guide and mentor,
afore that dark place took him over,
polished off his very mind til all about him lost.
(Poor Richard backs and backs away.)
Kerry at Real Toads has us writing micro poetry following the theme of “This is not what we came to see…”
The words are of how difficult my sons find it to visit their dad. A particular son, whose dad was his hero, is visibly shaken to the point he is robbed of speech on the occasions he visits his dad, his grief his loss is palpable. He is slowly backing away as this is the only way he can cope.
I understand this as when my mum was robbed of her identity by that that is dementia, I found it very difficult to love this stranger who inhabited my mothers body and eventually didn’t…
Image: courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Author: Gert Germeraad