Lillian

My grandmother was an amazing woman who died many years ago.  She was my first experience as an adult (and new mother) of dementia and visiting someone in a nursing home.  She did not have a clue who I was.  On a good day she would call me my father’s name (I favour his side of the family) but she alway, always wanted to hold her great grand son.  I am not sure who she thought he was, because my father only had daughters.  This is a poem I wrote after the nursing home staff cut her amazing long hair and changed my grandmother into someone else.  (She had never had short hair)

Lillian

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Seed to Summit / Living A Life of Jen

Fueled by passion, healthy nutrition, fitness, and fun. My dream is to help others progress from where they are to where they want to be….. from Seed to Summit!

K.L.Wightman

Let's Talk Content Marketing & Creative Writing

Your Pet's Best Life

Helping you, your pet, and your vet live the best life imaginable!

AplusExperience

Musings on travel, food, and everything else...

The Little Mermaid

MAKING A DIFFERENCE, ONE STEP AT A TIME

Chaotic Shapes

Art and Lifestyle by Brandon Knoll

Writing for the Soul Workshop™

“Creating tomorrow’s writers …today!”

Runawaywidow

Stories about the challenges and adventures of a traveling, mid-life, unexpected widow

%d bloggers like this: