Dementia - A Prose Poem

This is what my life has become....

That's the thing about dementia.

I'm the parent; she's the child.

Sometimes I feel I am going along on the same crazy train as my mother and I can't seem to get off. It sucks me into its vortex and whips me, like I've been put in a blender then poured out and expected to carry on as if nothing has happened.

No two days are exactly the same.

Sometimes I'm met with a kind sweet lady who is grateful for all my help.

Other times she's a contrary woman that rages at my attempts to assist her.

There is no pleasing THAT woman.

Sometimes she would rather sleep all day and roam around at night.

There are times when she spins like a top, perseverating on even the smallest of things and no amount of assistance will ease that chaos in her mind.

She often turns to drink to soothe the Swiss cheese memory - map that was once her mind.

Tripping on a sea of alcohol without an once of food to give her something to hold on to, she bobs and weaves around time and place.

People long dead are coming for dinner. Others, she wonders where they are. Even I have been told "My daughter...." and I remind her "I am your daughter." She laughs it off.

She forgets to get up to use the bathroom and I am nursemaid cleaning up after her while she tries to help.... but only leaves a wake of more work for me to do.

When she has finally settles down for a nap, I can stumble out into the moonlight and howl, "You're driving me crazy!"

Because I would not want to say it in front of her and watch the devastation take another part of her from me.




Word Count = 299 words.

Notes ▼

Written for Daily Flash fiction:
Prompt for 8/16
Write a story that includes the line: “You’re driving me crazy.”