Alzheimer's and my Auntie Ruth
Music is the first to come, and the last to go.
The rhythm of the heartbeat
in the womb;
the delight of familiar songs
in the nursing home.
The disease sneaks up
stealthily robbing the most gifted
of their talents.
Those fingers which flew over the keys,
playing Chopin, Bach, Beethoven,
popular tunes,
now gnarled.
I want her carers to know
who she is, her essence,
her history, the richness of her life.
Her smile in the morning
like the sunshine itself,
long dark hair streaming over
her long flowered robe.
Her fascination with words,
creativity with décor,
a secretary in academia,
student of Judaism,
fine needlepoint artist,
orator,
sophisticated conservatory grad,
member of the board.
Her pride in her nieces
and nephews,
her family gatherings
of all generations;
picnics in her elegant
garden, where I
held my wedding.
Her happy marriage
and later widowhood.
Her inability to have children.
Her door always open
in fun and sad times.
The guest room with the old dresser,
antique bed, and side table
with small books.
The view over the garden
The delicate pale greens
and flowers of the wallpaper.
We played duets,
looked at precious
family photos,
chatted in her elegant
dining room with
pheasants decorating
the walls.
Later, I brought her roses,
and she said,” oh these
are delicious.”
Her pain at knowing
her illness, feeling the
enormity of her loss.
The only challenge in
a life full of vicissitudes
which unhinged her,
until at last she was too ill
to remember the loss,
free to enjoy the present,
until there was loss after loss
after loss:
wheelchair and bedridden,
her radio tuned to the classical station.
I was too late for her passing.
After work, we were alone
during her transition.
I screamed at this bitter end,
gently brushed her hair.
About the Author
Elsa Lichman is a retired social worker and writer living in Massachusetts. She has experienced many losses and found comfort in writing about them. This poem was inspired by her learning that the leader of her senior virtual singing group has a mother in an Alzheimer's facility, who still enjoys music.
