Fighting
This is a special post as it is not about nature or my children. It is for my grandpa on the anniversary of his passing and for all those out there who are also affected by Alzheimer's Disease.
All my life I've been fighting.
As a baby I fought illness
that in those days couldn't be
prevented with an injection.
Surrounded by eight brothers and sisters,
I was always fighting to be heard.
I hated school and constantly thought up
ways to fight the system.
Then, in my late teens, I discovered
what real fighting was.........
..and the loss that went with it.
I fought to get employment,
to keep my family fed, clothed and
with a roof over their heads.
I tried to fight the emptiness
when my only love left too soon.
Now I am fighting this disease.
I am fighting to retain my dignity,
I am fighting to make people see
I am still here, I am still me.
They just need to take the time
to fight the stereotype.
This is my last fight and I can't do it
on my own.
I don't want to admit defeat,
but as I sit here in these strange surroundings
I keep asking myself....
...is there anyone out there fighting for me?
I am so sorry to hear about the passing of your grandad last year.
ReplyDeleteYou have written a really beautiful and moving poem. It had me in tears.
My mum is suffering from Advanced Alzheimer's disease and your poem has totally summed up how I imagine she must be feeling - thank you.
Thank you for such a touching comment especially when you are going through such an emotional time. I am so sorry to hear about your mum. My grandpa actually passed a number of years ago but he had a big impact on me and the raw feelings are always just below the surface. As a result i now work with people who have dementia and I feel I can do something in my grandpa's memory to give a wee bit of help to other people who have to live with it themselves or as a family member because that can be just as hard, I know. Just keep remembering your mum is still in there and she will know when you touch her hand or speak gently to her that you are walking the rough road with her. In my grandpa's last minutes my auntie was with him and told him he would soon be with his son and he cried a wee tear because he knew who she was talking about and that's where he wanted to be. He came back to us before he left us. X
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