Ink lings

I see her sitting in her chair
The wheels are locked in place
My gaze is met by hollow eyes
No expression on her face

It’s clear she does not know me
Nor does she recognize
The life that swirls around her
She cannot visualize

In her lap there rests a doll
Cupped within her arm
With the instincts of a mother
She shelters it from harm

I wonder what still lies within
What thoughts run through her head
When her whole life consists of 
A wheelchair and a bed

How much of life does she retain
What treasures does she hide
How much does she really know
That she keeps locked inside

Does in her heart a love still glow
Do cherished memories play
Or like her withered body
Have they too gone away

I wish that I could reach her
And visit for a while
But I can offer nothing

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About oldmainer

I am retired and live in southern Maine with my wife and two dogs. I started Oldmainer as an outlet for my occasional opinions and random observations, with some poetry thrown in. I welcome anyone that wants to kick back and join me here on the porch, exploring all the gifts we have been given and the memories collected. Thanks for stopping by.
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One Response to Dementia

  1. Your post reminds me of this song, it can be found on you tube but I thought you may like the lyrics. I know it has nothing to do with dementia but it speaks out loud about the old and lonely society prefers not to see.

    Rocking Alone in an Old Rocking Chair

    Sitting alone in an old rocking chair,
    I saw an old mother with silvery hair,
    She looked so neglected by those who should care,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair.

    Her hands were all callused and wrinkled and old,
    A life of hard work was the story they told,
    And I thought of angles when I saw her there,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair.

    Bless her old heart do you think she complained,
    Though life had been bitter she’d live it again,
    And carry the cross that was more than her share,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair.

    It wouldn’t take much to gladden her heart,
    Just some small remembrance on somebody’s part,
    A letter would brighten her empty life there,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair

    I know some children in an orphan home,
    Who’d think they owned heaven if she were there own,
    They’d never be willing to let her sit there,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair.

    I look at her and I think what a shame,
    The ones that forgot her she still loves the same,
    And I think of angels when I see her there,
    Rocking alone in an old rocking chair.


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