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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2256879
Losing a friend to dementia

They say we all want to be remembered.
She no longer has any memory of me--
hard to be erased, to know all we've shared
she can't reach. Yet in that, because she can't,
she can have no regrets.

I will remember her.
I know who she is.
We, who remember,
will never let her memory die
even as she fades
to mere transparency.

I am richer for the knowing.
Still have our memories
and I shall hold them dear
as I know
she would if she had the choice.

She is 'The Lady in Blue,'
the storyteller, the keeper of the flame
King Arthur kept burning.
She, daughter of Wales,
she with the soaring soprano voice
that could make angels weep with joy,
she will be remembered
and cherished.

Death cannot steal that
nor hold it dear.
In that, we who remember,
will keep her flame burning.
I know who she is.

And I will
remember Karen.

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