Those tatted, twisted tangles in your brain,
They breed the sadness in those eyes of blue,
Wreak damage, cause dementia - mental pain;
There is no mercy in the waste they do.
You sit almost immobile in your chair;
You must depend on others to be fed;
They give you baths and brush your ungrayed hair;
A Vander-Lift will hoist you to your bed.
I see that tear roll slowly down your cheek.
It's your response to music soft and sweet.
You process what you hear, but cannot speak.
No words will come out right - no phrases neat.
Only death will free these snarls and turn you loose:
"I hope in dreams you're free, my gentle Bruce."
Copyright © 1996 Mary Bloomer
Used with permission of the author.
Mary is caregiver to her husband, Bruce,
who is in the late stages of Alzheimer's.
Bruce's favorite song, "Danny Boy", is
is included as the music for this page
Email Mary at: email@example.com