Smiling Decay

This is about my Grandma who has Alzheimer's. Both my Grandmas have suffered through this. My great grandmother who has passed away had severe Alzheimer's. It's a scary thing to imagine.

Smiling Decay

 

 

Her memory is fading as she is gazing out over the dark green sea With words mouthed between crippled lips, she kisses the sky From you to the woman she used to be    An ageless angel with each wrinkle as a memory-- Of the apples that are still ripe on the apple tree Of the hand that had once touched her so delicately Of the hands which became the arms of a man who loved her Most passionately, wrapped around her in each caress All too forgotten now you see...he could feel the smoothness of her thighs And the being she meant to him in a time that was So different than is today. When she was just a young woman in his eyes Her emotions would pour out like a cold liquid spring... When she could recognize your voice or hear a song~ I love you my girl, he would whisper into her ear So she yawns, then she cries a precious tear For the morning comes and no one is ever there Where have all the flowers gone? Where is he, no one shall ever know...was he ever there at all? How she yearns to remember you.. oh how she wants to remember it all She'll be crying for her lost son--in the fields of crimson poppies bleeding One by one they all faded away, now postcards sent to heaven What happened to the family she raised from the dust of the depression   Grandmother cries for she is dying... Far off in the distance, her little girls are sleeping collecting rainbow gems glittering in between the streets For these hearts that lovers had entwined which never yearned for more than the simplicity of their minds of Autumn leaves, a darkness totally cool and free Blossoms in their happy youth...tomorrow we shall speak Of something new something we never talked about Of White and Black roses and a cross too holy   As the neighbors eye us coldly In thorny vines wrapped around her so tightly Which tell the tales of bittersweet tragedies What ages remember they can never say... What dreams are ragged demons in straight jackets What ghosts of dreams become lost fragments   I take grandma for a walk down the valley And she sees the poppies as they bloom Oh if we were more than memories And the time is coming--- And the world didn't have to end in this sort of doom~~ Oh how she drank this bittersweet wine As she laid her self sinking down into that comfortable bed No longer caring for the people who loved her Three white pills and then laid down her head Vodka and what the good lord said To never let go, but yet she let go of us and then She let go, she let go...goodbye my friends. Can she remember me? What is a memory? Oh mother can it be? I am nothing but child's chorus and a sad soulful melody...I am writing you a letter That you might read....when the world begins to sway When the world decides to stay for tea and bread, for a reason to believe in eternity. Little girl Little girl of mine what do you see? Little girl little girl, wish you were mine Through the window a sudden breeze blows And awakens the music of her soul to dance without limbs Without these silly thoughts stolen by clowns and demons She once spoke of dementia, she had spoken of soundless screaming Instruments of meaning Oh to have something left of me. The gown of white, cloaked her form As she passed through the stony graveyard the morning A memory filled her nostrils with the scent of ripe orange blossoms A memory of a life lived once before it all started to rot away Who had ever existed then but the smile of her beautiful decay? And the moon simply smiled As the memory died And the moon simply cried herself to sleep At the role she had to play For all through her life she smiled For all through her life she smiled through decay...

Copyright Gabrielle Bryant

Author's Note

Please review, don't be shy :)

Reviews

[bailish]

I've also watched a relative's mind decay through Alzheimer's. It was so much worse for those around her than it was for her. To have her look at you, but she doesn't see you as you are now. Instead, she talks to you about things that happened twenty years prior.

Watching a gradual change occur in someone you love, just hoping that one day things will pop back to normal, but they never do -- it's too much sometimes.

[Sydelle Houston]

This is a loving, heart-felt tribute to your grandmothers, and I enjoyed reading it.