Controlled Insanity

Controlled Insanity

I really can’t

I can’t get up.

I can’t walk.

I can’t take a shower,

I can’t comb my hair.

I can’t even climb a single stair.

Where is your father?

Do you have any tests?

What grade are you in?

Where is your father?

Dementia is crazy.

Every day is a pain,

As if there’s nothing more to gain,

Than lost memories and an emptiness that will kill you faster than any disease.

So you fill your life with scenes,

Hallucinations jig sawed from your past.

Mixing your rural childhood, with your urban adulthood, with your suburban old age.

So right after spoiling your grandchildren with your impeccable Mexican cuisine,

You’re playing games in the fields with your girlfriends,

Then you’re putting food on a table for 17 and changing the diapers of your sister’s kids.

But as it frequently does,

Time ran your show.

Dementia is crazy.

With it, came confusion, complications and incompetence.

But, as a hero with your own code,

You owned dementia.

The phrase “I can’t” quickly became “I want to, therefore, I will”   

I will get up, with aide.

I will walk, with aide.

I will shower, with aide.

I will comb my hair, with aide,

I will climb a dozen stairs, with aide.    

Dementia is crazy.

You see,

We spend our whole lives helping others,

But in the end, the biggest help we give is the help we receive.

Receive the back rub.

Receive the medication.

Receive the warm baths.

Because dementia can drive you crazy,

But live life to the fullest, even if it is a little hazy.