It has been months since I visited the site, and even longer since I wrote anything.
However, my visit this morning must have done something, because I wrote this short poem on my way up to Geraldton for work.
In the course of my study, I came across a single blog from a lady whose husband had Alzheimers, and was caught by her heading "He was never a shadow to me"
This poem really doesn't capture what I planned on writing, but never mind, it is a start. And one day, I may re-visit the subject and re-write what I wanted to write in the first place!! (I think I must be getting old - I just can't seem to concentrate as well on composing a poem while I am driving as I used to!!
)He Is Never A Shadow To Me
Irene Conner 08.07.13
You may think he is merely a shadow
of the man whom he once used to be,
but the memory loss that can make you so cross
doesn't make him a shadow to me.
Though his body and mind are declining,
the essence of him hasn't died.
He can't do what what he did; he may act like a kid,
but his soul is still buried inside.
Though I know what it is makes him special,
mere words cannot capture it all.
If you look past the changes dementia arranges,
perhaps you will hear his soul call.
So it's tall in my heart he is standing
though frail and confused he may be.
No matter his life, I'm still proudly his wife;
he is never a shadow to me.
