“Cognitive decline,”
a doctor’s descriptive term
was not the diagnosis
we feared.
When all medications
failed to slow her decline,
the neurologist confirmed
it is Alzheimer’s.
.
Drying her off after a shower,
putting on the diaper, boiling an egg,
gently wiping her chin,
Suddenly she shouts
Who are you? Who are you?
Whoever you are, go away!
Go away! You heard me.
Leave me alone!
Long stressed, annoyed,
frustrated by her inability to respond
I smiled cheerfully,
spoke comforting words
This time her hateful screams
unleashed something deep inside.
I can’t go away. I wish I could, I shouted back,
realizing I was yelling
at the disease – not her!
She sat, as if she hadn’t heard,
somewhere far away.
I thought she’s old, had a full life,
if only some cataclysm could . . .
end it, take her away.
How could I have been angry?
Why had years of compassion
quickly vanished?
Ashamed,
overwhelmed by guilt,
feeling I failed,
