dementia

It blows into your life like an autumn breeze

...you suddenly notice it

you don't want it

or need it 

you certainly didn't ask for it

and like Autumn

it comes heralding change

it doesn't ring ahead and let you know it's coming 

authorities don't warn you about it's presence in your area 

there are no adverts in newspapers 

warnings on television 

daily ministerial updates

you can't wear a mask to prevent 'catching' it

or have a jab

or get boosted

and staying 2 meters apart won't prevent it - it just turns up!

then when it does 

...you can't take a pill

or put a plaster over it

or rest it for awhile

or rub it better!

it creeps up on you like old age itself

you can't immediately see it

but it's there in the eyes of your loved one 

you realize they are drifting away

you realize they know nothing of it

as they look right through you

a life-time is erased

all memories deleted

...it's a car crash - in slow motion!

it's no respecter of age 

sex

gender

race

it's not even the privilege of the very old 

look into their frightened eyes

their stumbling actions

their blank looks

their inability to keep up with conversations

all the madness within this madness

...you see they're drifting away 

decaying

disconnecting with the world around them

eventually you have to search for them

all those things you had together - gone

and one day you'll find yourself thinking;

"it's me - why don't you recognize me?"

then the questions start...

"Have I got it,

is my forgetfulness - my forgetting what I went into the kitchen for - dementia?

my not recognizing someone I meet in the street?

I'm of that age - do I have it?"

and what of the effects on everyone else

the extended family 

the dependants

partners - all notice the plodding decline

the slow departure 

the imperceptible crumble to an inevitable end

all the stresses and strains it brings 

the accepting the inevitable respite  time 

the heavy sense of failure that brings

the pain felt

all that professional help

the need for 24 hour support

the sense of loss 

the sense of hurt

and the giant hole that's left when the end finally comes

"could I not have done more?"

...a hole that cannot be filled 

but a hole that needs to be filled to cure the blight

that is 

...dementia

(I dedicate this poem to my Mum, Dorothy who died in her early 50's from Altzheimers over 20 years ago)