IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life
was spent in a nursing home,
suffering from dementia.
Life can be cruel.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

Losses

My mother had dementia before she died. She was blind most of her life. When she began to lose her memories, my heart broke for her. She became a person trapped in her own body with no colors or lights and little knowledge of who she is or was.
It was a hard road for her. When she finally succumbed at the end, part of me was relieved that she was free and maybe in a better place with my father and brother.

Was it wrong for me to feel a little relief that she was finally set free?  Is she in a better place?