Dementia

[This was written when my grandfather was struggling with Dementia and was in a nursing home. He past away in June 2010.]

Cold walls, tiled floors, empty rooms, the only sound coming from a TV in a room far away from where I stand. I peek into the room and you sit tied down in the chair that seems made only of steel. Tears and confusion sit vibrant in your eyes. Your emotions stream through the pores of your skin, streaming through towards just a touch of sympathy. Understanding is cloudy within your mind. You lapse through past and present, past and present, lost in memories being made and ones that have been. You begin to scream, emotion like a train hits you with unstoppable force and you don’t know what more to do. I step towards you to touch you. You cower away and say “No”. Pushing your negativity away, I rub your back and hum to you. Talking hysterically you try to understand why nothing else is happening. You quiet down and take comfort in the touch of another. Smiling at you I begin to talk to you like an equal. A moment of recognition comes back and that old smiling face comes through. I begin to relax. You ask for something to drink. I have only water which I willingly give to you. I help you drink. You smile. You seem like how I remember you before. We talk about things that, to me, make no sense. I find comfort in the irrationalism of your words. I sit. Your eyes slowly close and you begin to drift into a dream. A dream I can only pray is a peaceful escape to you. I kiss you on the cheek. I walk out the door. A nurse comes around the corner. Talking softly not to disturb you she brings words of comfort. She helps you to bed. I look one more time at the peacefulness of your sleep. The door closes. I am left outside. Thinking about you.