Recede #haiku #life

her time to go

moon radiates and pulls

out to sea

*

gray dayz

winters are harsh

there goes the hairline

*

looking at the time

seasons can’t decide

Covid expiration date

I hope amid all the masks here and distancing there that you are finding a “new normal”

Please chuckle we all need to…

Moms and Memory #elderlyissues #atozchallenge

Morning Glory Trail

sun rises with a smile

her hands still agile

***

We are fortunate my mother still has an agile mind and a healthy body.

As our moms age, we go through denial, look for the person she was, put the remaining pieces together in a way we can deal with.

Many of my clients are elderly women. From Parkinsons, Alzheimers to multiple chronic diseases each makes “mom” more fragile.

The women who tucked us in, helped with homework, fixed  the holiday dinners, never forgot a birthday, kept the grandkids for a week are now in a decline.

I notice many caregiver/kids want their parents to return. They get frustrated when their parents forget memories and forget them.

Memory is a complicated machine. We may not be able to form words around our memories but I think they remain to some degree.

When I give my client her knitting needles, her hands retain memory on the mechanics tho her hands may not be strong enough to hold the needles. I put moisturizer on her fingertips each morning and her fingers remember to make little circles on her face. I don’t care if she misses some areas her hands (and mind) are being reminded of what they do.

Patients whose families continue to provide care (it is okay to get outside assistance this is a 24/7 job) seem to have higher function and they are more content in general.

When we are close to the daily care we don’t always see the connection – but I do.

“Hi mom I had a great day at work. How are you?” A sleeping woman wakes up and a big smile covers her face.

“Hey dad how was your day?” She doesn’t see the voice recognition but I do.

Though they cant always remember names or faces they are able to make connections via their memory.

Don’t give up – your mama is still there lighting up inside each time you enter the room.

 

Do you have good memories of your mama????

How’s your memory?

The Worst Part is the End #elderly

a wheelchair

“This is the worst part of my life” she moaned. “Everything is in the past, nothing is in the future. Why didn’t I invest in life with more vigor more passion?”

She is in the twilight years of her life. Not much more to do than eat, sleep, and shuffle. Hearing aids augment sounds but many words slip by her ears without cognition. “What will I do with what remains of me?” she screams in a hoarse whisper.

“I could have been a writer, I could have been a nurse, instead I did nothing. What was it all for?”

Oh the doubts and fears that can eclipse the thoughts of the elderly. Too late to remedy their wishes but never too late to bemoan what was lost.

“Give me your hand dear Madeline” (for that is the name I will give you today). “Let us take a walk down the primrose path of your memories. Let’s smell the sweet scent of youth – yes you can remember those familiar scents of yesteryear though your olfactory system no longer cooperates today.”

“What will we see down that path? A handsome young man in uniform. An officer – just going to war. Hold out your arm, wave goodbye, give him the apple of your eye. When he returns, some things will never be the same.”

“There just look down that overgrown walk. Let’s take a moment and stop. ”  A kind faced gentleman, his arm gracefully draped behind  his withered wife, stands next to the ivy laden gate.They were  her aunt and uncle. How proud was she to know such folks. She reflects –”they taught me so much during the Depression.”

Another lane, more clear to see, grown up children with babes running free. The meadow is open the sun is bright– these children represent Madeline’s years of light.

She starts to smile as she takes in the sun, the blue of the flowers, the sounds of children having fun. “There’s promise you see in a world that seemed small. You had a life –it was something after all.”

***

 

***

 

 

 

Season of Decay #haiku #time #photography

fall's canvas

rubbing sister leaves

new endings, old beginnings

color explodes

fall rise

 a time to reflect

put away past pains

reach for tomorrow

The prompt for the first day of September at Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem is DECAY.

Where does Fall fall for you???

Rings of Time #poetry #photography

 

spotlight redwoods

 

Rambling  words at the beginning of  life

infancy

Eager to reach and stretch toward the sky

adolescence

Doting over little ones who sprout and giggle

parenting

 Watching as they go on without you

middle age

One tight smile as they watch you wither

seniority

Offensive  sounds ringing in ears

Finality

hands of time stopped

Timber!!!!

rings

 

This poem is pulled from my 2010 archives and shared with today’s poetry pantry.poets united

Life’s Canvas #art #poetry #photography

lane to the stable

Her art took on a new beauty

rust etched the background

creating a sepia contrast

red, ochre, black ground and mixed

 embedded under her nails

each brush an ally

each painting a well-known friend

 pochade box hinges creaked

suffering its own form of arthritis

and she the master of life’s canvas still

Laurie Kolp’s prompt at Poetry Jam this week was “Rust.” Having just been at my childhood home aka art studio, I felt compelled to write in rust colored ink.

Photograph: “The Lane to the Stable” L. Moon 2013

The oil painting “Stanford Lane”  circa 1980 is the copyright image of Clare

also in my archives some photographs of Rusting Images.

The Rings Of Time #poetry #FlashFiction

Rambling  words at the beginning of  life

infancy

Eager to reach and stretch toward the sky

adolescence

Doating over little ones who giggle and crawl

parenting

 Watching as they went on without you

aging

One tight smile as they watched you wither

senority

Offensive  sounds with their stinging blades

Finality

Done was my time

Timber!!!!

Thanks to G-Man who each week makes writing fiction fun. Well as long as you keep your fiction to 55 words and have a plot…

Photograph: Moondustwriter 2010

Reality Check

Looked in the mirror lately

what do you see?

I’d like to look back

at a former me

***

so much has changed

from dark to gray

lines in odd places

they’re sadly here to stay

***

some things work too well

what’s that pain about?

If  I could reverse time

before my knees  give out

***

one thing that’s a constant

the state of my heart

always loving and caring

after all that’s my art

rivrvlogr

Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)

mrswrangler

Thanks for following a cowgirl on her crazy life journey.

Maria Michaela Poetry

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe

A Unique Title For Me

Hoping to make the world more beautiful

Writer Ravenclaw

Books by author Diana Coombes

Some View on the World

With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger

I Write Her

my humanity in written form

Reena Saxena

Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....

michnavs

Poetry by Mich

Love13Reading

FOR READERS AND ASPIRING WRITERS

radhikasreflection

Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!

The Children's and Teens' Book Connection

From Board Books to Clean YA

Trisha Faye

Cherishing the Past while Celebrating the Present

MOM AND IDEAS

FROM ONE PARENT TO ANOTHER

Therapy Bits

Living life with dissociative identity disorder and complex ptsd

Brizzy Mays Books and Bruschetta

Predominately Books But Other Stuff Too

Monty’s Blahg

Home of Monty Vern

Faith Builders with Philip and Michelle Steele

Building your faith and framing your world by the Word of God