Visits with my mother are hard on me. I don’t live near enough to get used to her Alzheimer’s silence, the confused look in her eyes. I keep thinking one of these days I will accept this. But it seems so unfair. She was such a vibrant and thoughtful person. She is safe and happy and generally in good health, so I convince myself I should feel gratitude. Despair and grief take over. I can’t even look at this photo without tears welling up.
At Ethical ELA, we were prompted by Katrina to write about a photograph. I chose the one above.
We see
a child
delighted to hug
his great grandmother
generations of love
passed on with a kiss
on top of his head.We don’t see
Margaret Simon, draft
the grief seeping
into the moment
the loss of a mother
whose memories fleet
past through empty eyes
always questioning.
Reflections on the Teche 
Poignant. Tears well up here, too.
Oh I know this feeling so wel. Margaret. My mother-in-law has dementia and is living in a care facility far away. We called her recently and she gets so confused and agitated. It’s such a helpless feeling. Thank you for this poem.
.
The situation is so sad, and the hug is so beautiful. ❤️
Hugs, Margaret!
Margaret, it is sad as you say to watch the dwindling days go by, the used-to-be closeness, and the who are you questions. Then, there are the moments of joy like you said,
“generations of love/
passed on with a kiss
on top of his head.”
Your poetry will bring comfort to future days when children become older.
Margaret, sending you hugs. It’s so hard. ❤️