Alzheimers Poetry

Hi all,

I am a fellow caregiver to my mum-in-law who has mid stage Alzheimers, and write poetry about it. Here's one for you

DG x

Thief in the Night

Like a thief in the night, Alzheimers will creep,
Stealing your memories as you soundly sleep,
And when you wake, will not have left a trace,
Where memories were, now just empty space…

A serial offender, takes just one bit at a time,
Never satiated by just one single crime,
And even when you notice some little things missing,
That silent thief will be no more forgiving…

Robs recollections of an entire lifetime,
But, no, for this thief you can’t call 999,
And with these possessions, God knows what he’ll do,
As they were only ever of real value to you…

You can’t lock the door – he will get in somehow still,
A burglar alarm won’t stop him, no matter how shrill,
The Neighbourhood Watch his visits can’t prevent,
No, this thief will not give up, he will not relent…

If you were mugged in the street, you would put up a fight,
But hard to see off a prowler who visits by night,
Who comes unbidden, who comes unseen,
Who in the morning you don’t even know’s been…

Like a thief in the night, dementia will steal,
There’s no remorse, no conscience – you cannot appeal,
And when your home is plundered, nothing left to swipe,
He’ll return one last time to steal your last breathe of life…

More on www.dementiapoetry.com!

Battle Axe

Oh, what I’d give for the usual mum-in-law woes,
I’d gladly swap dementia for some of those,
Yes, that with Alzheimers I’d happily switch,
Even if it meant mum-in-law was a complete b****…

If I could swap with dementia, I really wouldn’t mind,
She could criticise my cooking whenever we dined,
She could my lax housekeeping openly deride,
If it meant no Alzheimers, I’d take it all in my stride…

She could give me dilapidation cream on Christmas Day,
I would smile and say thank you – keep conflict at bay,
She could imply I’m not good enough for her beloved son,
Still better than Alzheimers, when all’s said and done…

Could disapprove of the age gap (though got a point there),
As long as she had her sanity, I just wouldn’t care,
She’d be quite welcome to never let me forget,
That I have not made her a grandmother yet…

She could make little put-downs and snide remarks,
I’d just smile to myself as she attempted to snark,
And in private husband and I fun would poke,
Rehash all the old Les Dawson mum-in-law jokes…

But the Alzheimers relationship is somewhat perverse,
All of the usual in-law power play is reversed,
She can’t afford to niggle, nag or criticise,
Cause she knows that upon us she completely relies…

Oh, would it really be too much to ask,
To have just the usual mum-in-law battle-axe??
While I’m sure that would prove it’s own misadventure,
It’s still better than a mum-in-law with dementia...

Don’t Care For Me

Many more on my site www.dementiapoetry.com!

Don’t care for me – I don’t want you to,
It’s beneath my dignity to ever ask this of you,
Whether dementia is one day my fate,
Or I fall into a persistent vegetative state,
Or am stricken with some awful wasting disease,
Don’t care for me – I’m asking you, please…

Don’t care for me – I hate the mere thought,
Of making you angry, upset, overwrought,
Seeing mother-in-law when you look in my eyes,
Having my most loved ones witness my demise,
Or wiping my bottom – that I’d truly despise,
So don’t care for me – by my wishes abide…

Don’t care for me, as that I would hate,
I won’t be a burden – I’m telling you straight,
You’ve my full blessing to move on with your life,
Don’t forfeit it for me, please don’t sacrifice,
And don’t override me, if I can’t have a say,
Don’t care for me – I don’t want it that way…

Don’t care for me – it wouldn’t be fair,
Put me in respite and then keep me there,
Have Social Services pick up the flack,
Place me in a care home and please don’t look back,
To do otherwise would be an affront,
Don’t care for me – it’s not what I want…

Don’t care for me – but you can still visit,
Sit down and chat over tea and a biscuit,
Make sure the care home is not like on Panorama,
(Oh, wouldn’t that be some ironic karma!)
Still bring me home for a Christmas Day feast,
But don’t care for me – not full-time at least…

Don’t care for me – it’s a selfish request,
To ask anyone otherwise, I can attest,
People can’t realise what they ask when they say,
Please keep me at home, don’t put me away,
As if they did, they would not make such a demand,
Don’t care for me – please understand…

Don’t care for me, even if your heart tells you so,
Love is a two-way street, that I well know,
Don’t agonise over whether it’s right or it’s wrong,
But just cast your mind back to this little song,
Recall the poem that you have just read,
Please don’t care for me – I’ll be caring for you instead…