The scene was dark and dusty,
Full of thought gone rusty,
As disease set in.
Neurons fired, Synapses tired,
Lost, never to be thought again.
Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 01/04/2016
These verses slipped into the series of Ulysses poems (http://coachhinesblogs.com/2016/01/03/hey-ulysses-pt-i and http://coachhinesblogs.com/2016/01/02/hey-ulysses-pt-iii) I’ve been writing. It seemed to stand on its own so here it stands. It represents the feelings I experienced at my father’s hospital bed during the final months he suffered from terminal dementia before his passing at the end of last year.
The loss felt was multifold. I watched my dad lose himself while we tried to capture shared memories both made and never made for father and son due to choices of separation made after a youthful divorce. There is something about multiple divorces by parents in one’s youth that creates a sense of loss as one lives. Losing dad to losing memory to loss of life is the feeling spoken here.