cuddly Pudsey onesie

By Coolhermit

Wed, 29 Jul 2020
  • 882 reads
6 comments
 

 

the care home claims to 

‘add quality to dwindling days’ 

nurses’ smiles mask the reality,  

stinking, raw, suffering, mortality 
 

my turn to visit her 

I stood in the corridor  

fixing my face into,  

‘you’re looking well, 

nice to see you, mother’
 

the room stank to high heaven  

air-freshener, disinfectant, urine, 

 

in bed, mother,  

a parchment grotesque  

of gristle, bone, and vein 

oblivious to the incongruity  

of her cuddly Pudsey onesie 
 

‘Ma, you look wonderful tonight’  

‘get your hair cut, scruffy bugger’  

‘loving the onesie, mother’ 

 unused chairs around the bed, 

 

 'no visitors?’  

‘what you brung me?’  

‘a bunch of daffs...’ 

‘you made of money?’ 

‘tinned pears… Del Monte... ’ 

‘heavy syrup?’  

‘sorry, old girl,’ 

‘less of the ‘old’ - you ain’t too big to clip’

 

‘Spar’s out of spam got you salmon - 

John West - the best.’  

‘what about me Special Brew?’  

‘sorry, Mum, no go’  

 

a sulky sigh,  

‘what’s the time? I need me sleep’
 

‘it’s not that late, mum’ 

 

‘switch the light on, 

it’s so dark 

I can hardly see you’ 
 

‘it’s not that dark, Ma, 

but getting there’ 
 

she stared past me 

chatting with someone unseen, 

giggling like a dizzy teen 
 

I wiped her sparrow face,  

brushed her brittle hair,  

praying for a surer sleep  

to float her soon 

to an ocean of calm  

beyond all harm 
 

‘oi! you watching me poodle?’ 

 

Lulu was ‘sleeping’ at the vet’s -  

where I left her months before 

I nodded anyway 
 

Ma spread her arms,  

‘come here, give your old mum a hug

 

sing ‘Bluebells’ for your dad and me  

he sung it beautiful, he did.  

we was just saying it was our favourite’ 
 

she closed happy smiling eyes as

I sang, I’ll be your Sweetheart  

for her, for him, for them, 

 

I leaned to kiss her  

she shuddered, jerked,  

her fingers clenched tight 

vainly resisting  

the ‘gentle good night’...
 

she lost the fight
 

her broken body released its life 

her features switched to radiant -  

I kissed the shining, young girl face 

 

 ‘bon voyage, Ma.’  

 

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Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Such a poignant poem That sadness of a son watching his mother pass, yet relief that at least she's on her way to somewhere better, out of pain and misery. It's good that the son was there to say goodbye.

A reflective poem.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Coolhermit on

Thanks, Jenny, I aimed to set a balanced tension,the push/pull irritation/affection between the two. They drove each other crazy but in the end love wins out. Hatred shrinks in memory but love grows smiley

 

Rick.

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

So sad and touching 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

You show much understanding of the tension of such a visit. The ending indicates that in the confusion one can never be sure what is really going on in the heart, sometimes hard things and words are being remembered in the brain and being verbalised, but not necessarily being meant..

I think the first verse is a bit harsh. We can't visit now, but have visited regularly, and yes, there are those who are bitter, and those who suffer, and smells sometimes difficult to cover, but on the whole there were many content despite suffering, and gracious, and appreciating a cheeful and happy staff, and having fun with them much of the time. And they've even kept that up well through lockdown I gather through much dedication, and managed to help most accept the lack of 'in the flesh' visitors, - so much more work for the staff! Because of tales of real neglect that emerge in the press, and the unusualness of the situation, it is easy to feel wrongly horrified when rarely entering a Care Home. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Coolhermit on

I think this is my best poem here so far - yet seems neglected - ho hum.

My opening verse is a conflation of the first two in an earlier form  (in which I only visited as it was my rostered duty) - it was written some time before the current epidemic - and the nurses' smiles were evidence of their care, optimism and commitment amid the certainty of mortality - no impugning of them at all. This is multiplied tenfold nowadays. 

The whole episode is imaginary - that said, it did bring a tear to my eye for my mother whose passing I did not grieve (same for my siblings) yet my nieces who knew my mum in later softened years said it was just like her - they only have good memories of her.  Since her death my feelings towards mum have mollified somewhat.

Thanks for your comments

Rick.smiley

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

If it's of any  interest, I've written from time to time of the difficulties in getting to know my mother-in-law (who is now 100) and in coping with father-in-law's dementia. The most recent pieces about her, and the 'progress' she seemed to gain for the life extended so long are here:

https://www.abctales.com/story/rhiannonw/new-normal-100-years

https://www.abctales.com/story/rhiannonw/new-life-hot-water-bottle-cover

https://www.abctales.com/story/rhiannonw/mask-melting-98

Rhiannon