Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Before

When I was young and learned of death

I worried mom would leave

So in the yard beneath some junk

A board I did retrieve.


Then on the board I painted in

Two laughing eyes of blue

A wise wide smile, a tiny nose

Just like the mom I knew.


And when big sister went to school

The board I took with me

And planted it where ever I played

So mom would always be.



Now years have passed

I can’t pretend midst Alzheimer’s disease

When from her rocking chair mom says,

‘There’s a soul—,”a soul that I can’t see.


But I can’t help but wonder

When grandma comes to mom

And mom describes her like before

Before when I was young.


Oh how I long to tarry

Within my childhood space

Find comfort in a piece of wood

And peace in childhood faith.


©--Christina Cowling

3 Comments:

At 1:34 AM, Blogger Heather Blakey said...

demons from my past just shivered and I felt a ghost walk by me. This is a very moving piece Chris

 
At 2:24 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

This piece comes at a timely moment - today I heard a good friend of ours has just entered the initial stages of this particular condition. It's devastating to say the least. She is a lovely woman. Your words would be a comfort to people if you ever felt they wanted to be published. Blessings to you.

 
At 3:32 AM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

A great sentiment Faucon. I know a lady who treats the condition and patients are said to be waylaid in the labyrinth and often are encouraged to walk a labyinthine style garden to encourage them to remember...very good description.

 

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