Across the country, along the rails
Came Mother and me, with her bewails.
She always wants, to return …home
Where …thoughts …memories …roam.
Sometimes home is …light years away
When as a child, with others she’d play.
Her memories are not always clear
She twists time around, transforms …there …here.
Time gives …her space, to enjoy her past
Space gives …her grace, from Alzheimer’s grasp.
Copyright/ Sheila Grimes/ December 23, 2012
This is my second Christmas with Mom here in Texas. Better than last year….for sure. She yearns for years gone by, yearns for her home, sometimes it’s New York, sometimes her childhood home. She has traveled thousands of miles in her head. She’s more content. Each day is a challenge. She likes things done THE SAME WAY EVERY DAY! We all just go on with our lives …and we go with her flow! sg