New names and faces greeted me daily
I registered some, and forgot the rest
I was young then.
When they asked me if I remembered
I looked straight at them and lied.
They didn’t mind it
They didn’t mind me
They didn’t mind the lie, because
They too, had lied to others
But they didn’t know why.
As I grew older
I began to notice details,
Ones I had ignored before –
Memories are a gift
Like paintings that don’t go well with the sofa
So you put them aside
But you look upon them when you have nothing else to do.
Years later, when my best friend died
I was mad when they didn’t wish me
On my birthday, the year next.
I realised later that I’d started to forget.
Misplacing things, getting confused –
Doing what I considered ‘insignificant‘ in my youth.
I was instructed to observe things closely,
So I wrote, and jotted, to remember.
My average head tried very hard to not age.
PETs were unpleasant,
I solved jigsaw puzzles every day.
Days on which I felt cocky,
I solved the crosswords with a pen.
But I had not made (and if I had, didn’t remember)
A new memory in a long time.
White, green, and blue surround me now –
They change my clothes
They feed me
They care for me as if I were a child.
Before I finally stopped remembering,
Knowing, and being aware,
When the colours trickled down my grey cells
I tried to recall your bright face, my friend,
Before, in age, I grew young again.
An estimated 46.8 million people worldwide were living with Alzheimer’s disease and dementia in 2015. This blog-post is written in honour of all those individuals, and their families.