Senility

My aunt remembers details
From her life so long ago,
Yet ask her what she had for lunch
And she'll say, "I don't know."

She knew her old address and all
The neighbors who lived near.
Her memory from eighty years ago
Was crystal clear.

Yet she could not recall the fact
She'd talked about her youth,
Repeating stories umpteen times - 
Believe me, that's the truth.

We listened and responded
Like each telling was the first.
Within my aunt's declining brain,
The time has been reversed.

But still, we had a lovely time - 
We laughed and reminisced.
Those tales from days long past to me
Are so hard to resist.

The mind's a most peculiar thing - 
As brain cells up and die,
We travel back to how we were,
The present day a lie.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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Cavanaugh Avatar
December 21, 2012 at 10:26 PM
Wow, so well done ilene. My sister would tell you that your first stanza is about me. So I can identify with this poem. Though I don't think I have a problem. I was even tested and the Doctor told me I didn't have a problem just lots on my mind. I love this poem.
Irwin Avatar
December 10, 2012 at 8:01 PM
Ilene, thanks for sharing this one. Painfully spot on.
Johnson Avatar
December 4, 2012 at 3:24 PM
A wonderful telling of something that can certainly be disconcerting in peoples lives. It is querky how that works though. I experiance that with my dad and did with my mom. May your days be clear to help you steer beyond the clouds of fright. And may you see beyond the dark, even in the midst of night.
Harrell Avatar
December 4, 2012 at 6:04 AM
Interesting. I wonder if it is like that for everyone when he/she gets to a certain age. Lovely write, Ilene. Love ya, Toquyen
Ryerson Avatar
December 3, 2012 at 4:14 PM
My grandfather died of Alzenheimer's (though it was not called that then)...I'm afraid it was not a pleasant experience for us OR him...he was a proud and strong man reduced to a helpless child...doesn't make sense...great poem, Ilene - Tim
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