July 6, 2011

What a friend does:

Forgetting again.


And I am instantly ashamed.
And I worry a little.
The relatives who developed dementia 
tried to hide their forgetting
because, obvi0usly:
how embarrassing!
How irritating.

I am here to ask my relatives
please come and see me when I'm old
and can't remember your names. 
And my friends.
Please laugh with me when I
hear your joke, 
laugh at your joke
forget your joke, 
you retell your joke,
I laugh again.

Laughter and joy can suffer forgetting 
They love us and don't' mind.
There is no shame, because they understand.
No need to forgive. 
No need to ask for it.

It took me awhile to 
understand my forgetful relatives.
But I got it.
No shame in forgetting!
Who cares anyway.
One time I'd been very sick
and my mind wouldn't work
at rapid fire, 
as we seem to need 
day to day.

How much is that melon if it is #$1.19 a lb.
Do you have to weigh it?
And can you 
multiply a decimal
if you do
and can you add a decimal
if you need two?.

Or is your estimate more or less accurate?
Going to the store is a minefield.
How many items are needed.
Where is the list?
Where is my car?

I mean it does interfere with well laid plans.
Adds extra effort 
and extra time
for the friends and 
for the distracted himself.

Definition of care:
Extra effort to love anyway.
Extra effort to chuckle and not worry.
Slow to anger about the digression.
Patience to let it flow and go.

But this society doesn't allow forgetting.
The forgetful should be ashamed.

At least that's the fight going on in my brain. 
Bad House Dreams when I can't remember:
Shame is the theme, room to room.

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