Jean's Reflection

I look in the mirror and the reflection I see, Is a young, aspiring woman looking back at me. She's a primary school teacher, her students now old, she has so many stories, not yet told. For now, she is still the woman in her youth, reliving her past, at present with truth. The determined woman, a mother of three, always reflecting on how her life would be. In truth, it's now hard to remember new folk, even the ones in sapphire uniforms that give me some hope. Forgive me please, if I forget who you are, many faces appear from near and far. The faces I recognize when reliving my past, I am reminded have lost their lives when I ask. I get distressed with this mind that I call my own, when the present, elderly me feels so unknown. If you look hard enough you will see, these past years I'm reliving are the happiest I could be. I can't change this way of thinking while this desease is causing my brain shrinking. Don't threat though, I am still here deep within, my glossy, blue eyes and mischievous grin. My sense of humour still young and flair, while immobile in my wheelchair. Then I assess where I am isn't my classroom, feeling anxious and full of doom. For now I am not a teacher you see, for a long time I've been a retiree. This time when I look in the mirror, the reflection I see, is a woman with dementia but it doesn't define me