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- At first we didn’t recognize the holes As something that was eating his mind We simply thought his lack of memories Was a part of growing old Part of being frail The birth of feeling alone
But as time meandered I felt alone My ability to engage his memories Only led to larger holes Until I thought I would lose my own mind And I began to feel so old So inadequate, so frail
I thought about the old Grandfather, the one not so frail And in the recesses of my mind I conjured up the memories Of when he wasn’t alone Of when my heart had no holes
It isn’t caring for him I mind Or the filling in of his medical and financial holes It’s knowing that one day I’ll be frail And I wonder if I’ll be alone Will I slowly lose my memories When I am broken and old?
Will I live in a home with curtains frail Eating Meals on Wheels alone Sitting in the darkness watching old Re-runs while mending holes In my blanket, going out of my mind Trying to hold onto my memories?
Or will my memories Be that which make me feel old Will I reminisce about the past alone While I launder the frail Blanket now void of holes As I piece together the patch-work of my mind
I can only hope that when I’m old and frail That my memories will be filled with holes But only of the times my mind raced with fear and I felt alone.
- copyright © 10/13/03
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