Lethe

Cherry

By Di_Hard

Fri, 02 Mar 2018
  • 6218 reads
15 comments
 

Forgetting things is so scary

like standing on a bank

a river is eating away at.

My Dad died of dementia

unable to talk. My son hates that

I want to die before I get old.

I don't want him to understand

Certificate U
Poem

Comments

Submitted by camilla on

Its very concise but I wondered whether it could be expanded. So many people must wonder if they are standing on that river bank.

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

I think much of the time with dementia, or other types of memory loss, the self-awareness of that loss is quite limited, especially after the first stages. Sometimes it seems that much is lost that have been very superficial concerns, worries and busyness, and a calm trust and waiting, can remain. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

That comparison is pitch perfect Di, as is the poem - and I didn't know who lethe was so thank you for prompting me to find out!  It could also be anxiety or stress you know. I hope it is.

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

You've illustrated the terror of losing control of your faculties here, like files all stored neatly in your head suddenly scattered in disarray. The frustrating thing is you know it's there but you cannot access it. I've no experience of dementia in my family but I imagine it's so so hard for everyone.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou for your comment Camilla, it is very helpful. I am not sure I can write about it properly

 

Submitted by camilla on

It was writing about it properly and its bound to spark a lot of thinking about it for other people.

As with other kinds of bereavement perhaps some experiences become thinkable over time. In 2015 I lost my brilliant husband to a brain tumour.  He lost abilites day by day and died within weeks. He always saw the train coming at him after he was told. None of us like to think about mortality until we have to.

I have chosen that my ashes will be put in with husbands when the time comes. The children at least will know what to do. 

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Camilla thankyou for sharing your experience with me it must be very painful for you. You must have been frantic knowing the time you would part. In some ways you having to cope afterwards must have suffered more

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou, Rhiannon. It was your poem about losing keys that started it. I am not sure that my Dad was calm or at peace

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou Insert. I have always had a bad memory, but it's the insomnia thing which worries me. My Dad had that, too. I don't know how he kept it together so long.

The idea is actually a rip off of Richard L Provencher's poem Cold Memory

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Yes Jane, you are so right. My brother had an awful conversation where my Dad said he reminded him a bit of one of his sons. And he had just had their baby and my Dad didn't understand she was his grandchild. And the house, my Dad had a workshop with everything in labelled tins, each screw size. And the vegetable garden all straight rows and careful rotation. But you couldn't get into the workshop because stuff was piled in right upto to the door. And the vegetable garden was all full of brambles.  When my son came down for the funeral he saw the grandfather clock in the hall and wanted to look inside (it had stopped) but he wanted to see the pendulum, so I opened the door and inside Dad had stuck a post it note telling himself how to wind up the clock which he had inherited and loved to look at. In the woods (which I remember as having well trodden paths) holly had grown up making everwhere seem dark and confusing. Everwhere seemed to be part of his dementia

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

I'm participating in a study run by King's College, looking at mental capacity in older people (not being funny, I honestly can't remember what age you have to be to start participating surprise​ ) that will run for about ten years.  It's online and there have been various studies -  things on brain training and what effect it has, and our latest one, social contacts.  Each participant also has an 'informant', who knows them well; every so often the participant is sent an assessment to complete, to see how they think they're functioning, and then the informant has to complete one, to see if the two correlate.  You give them access to your medical records and permission to inform your doctor if there are indications you're losing the plot.  

Sometimes I panic because I can't put names to famous faces, or I open the fridge and it takes me a few seconds to remember that I actually wanted tea bags, and I know my concentration isn't what it was.  There's no history of dementia in my family but I have seen other go through it with loved ones and, as you say Di, I worry more about my kids having to cope with it than I do about myself.  

I think your analogy with the river bank is brilliant.  

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Airy Fairy thankyou for your comment. Is this the PROTECT study? http://www.protectstudy.org.uk/

I do like doing puzzles but there's no way I could learn a new language or subject, but I'm trying to write rhyming poems as it's a sort of discipline :0) The faces thing is a problem as we live in a small place and I cannot remember who people are when they say hullo

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

I too like the dark riverbank.

I'm functional about most things that matter but I forget books that I have read recently more than ones I read a long time ago. Also I'm a bit 'use it or lose it' with names of things. A couple of years ago I decided that I wanted a few bits of quality bacon not the supermarket stuff. I was rummaging in my head 'pieces of bacon - what's the proper name?' It took me a while to remember 'rashers'.

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou Elsie. It's awful when you forget a word. Rashers doesn't seem to have ANYTHING  to do with bacon. Makes me think of impulsive pigs. Awfully sometimes when I am tired I use the exact opposite of the word I mean, when I'm talking, like push instead of pull, empty instead of full, it can make me seem very rude if I say a negative instead of a positive.

 

Submitted by Denzella on

Hello again,

What a fantastic poem!  I didn't get it at first because I don't have a poetic bone in my body but then when I did get it I realised its true worth.  Dementia and Alzheimers turn sufferers into ghosts of what they once were.  I witnessed it when my mother didn't know me and my niece's husband, who had Early Onset Alzheimers, couldn't find his way to the passenger seat of their car.  I think as we get older and more forgetful we all wonder if we are heading for some form of Dementia. Your analogy with a river bank is so apt. That last line is so devastating.

Moya