Presentation on theme: "My Year to Remember With my Mother and Alzheimer’s disease."— Presentation transcript:
My Year to Remember With my Mother and Alzheimer’s disease
Mama Walking through the house That doesn't feel like home; You've forgotten it, As well as all your children. One day you woke up, and Those memories were gone. You walk the floors and worry, Wishing for cattle and land, For food, for cash crops. You just can't understand how It is today--why we don't need all that. Your mind is still in the years Of the great depression. So you walk and worry. I try to explain, tell you There's nothing to worry about. I cook, and I tell you when it's Time to eat, and I give you your pills. I clean the house. I'm here for you, mama. We've got all we need; We've got each other. Please don't die, mama; You're all i've got. Copyright Brenda Parris Sibley
It’s Me Mama, it's me, I'm your youngest daughter. Can't you see that; don't you know Who it is that loves you so? You ask the others; they tell You too, that i'm your baby, I'm your Sue. Why have you forgotten me? I'm right beside you; can't you see? Mama, please look into my eyes, Please know me some. Please tell me you love me And that you're glad i've come Copyright Brenda Parris Sibley.
Waiting for the Morning I sit awake with you in the scary midnight darkness, telling you everything is okay, calming you down after a dream, holding your hand as you wander, searching through the house for remains of your former life. I sit as you sleep in your chair, when you won't go back to bed, knowing you will wake in terror, afraid of a dream, afraid of not knowing, afraid of everything. And sometimes you won't hear, my words will be as meaningless as the ones you sometimes say. And perhaps you will reach out, sometimes searching, sometimes striking; I'm here for you, whatever you need; I'll even be your punching bag. But I can't fix things for you; I can't bring your memories back. They are gone, just like the house and people you search for. All I can do is sit and wait with you for the approaching dawn when things will look a little better illuminated by the light of day. Copyright Brenda Parris Sibley
Alzheimer’s Sitting in your chair in the nursing home, you hold my hand, but you barely respond. You can't understand me; I can't understand you. Words have no meaning. Neither do faces. You've been on the way here for a long time. But did I speed it up? In trying to care for you, did I do more harm than good? And then I gave up, and now you just sit. Mama, I'm so sorry. Mama, I'm so afraid that I did this to you. Copyright Brenda Parris Sibley