Numb3rs

20130719_132102

Tip them up, don’t let the luck run out.

Nail them over the door. In and out.

Except what luck is a rusty shoe?

Unlucky for the horse to wear!

 

Double the luck, put up two. Just in case.

Touch them with your finger tips. In and out.

Except why double up on chance?

Unlucky except for  in the averages!

 

Me and thee, we together have made three.

Adding to the family some of me, some of you.

A little family of three. He, me and thee.

We are a wee little bit of heaven here!

 

Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Pray. Submit.

Adding souls to heaven, no we don’t boast.

Keeping them together, and yet they are

keeping themselves apart. Confusing no?

 

Dancing together, me and thee. Maybe.

Music of laughter, giggles and farts.

Farts! I said farts. Big boy and small.

Surely you know about the musical fruit?

 

Visiting graves today with one young

and one very much older. Much the same.

Fixing tipped flowers, setting out new ones.

Reading names and dates. So many gone.

 

Miles driven. Stories told. Tired eyes blink.

Lines on the road, beyond counting now.

She doesn’t know she tells them over and over.

The stories are here and now for her.

 

Names carved on stones, ties to the past.

Giving hope to a new future seeded deep.

Mama how many great greats was Annie?

Does Baba know I miss her? I do he asserts.

 

Standing by stones, holding one so warm.

Seeing her lean on her cane, living memories.

She came from the grave, thought Effie was home.

Knocking on the door of an abandoned house.

 

Grandma she’s gone. She doesn’t remember. And

then she does. Fingers brush against memories.

Let’s go see something else. She gets in the truck.

Driving slow, talking about people she used to know.

 

He doesn’t understand why her memories are

out of time, lost to their own flow. He listens.

She tells the same stories again and again.

We listen to her voice, not the words, again.

 

Alzheimers and dementia steal their minds. They can rob us of conversation. They can force someone to live in a past with the present floating by. But it cannot steal their voices. Repeat those stories Grandma, tell me again. I know I’ll miss your voice when you are gone. Stories can change with the telling, it is the story teller that is cherished by young and old.  Missing my own Grandparents, and cherishing time with my husband’s Grandma today.  And sharing for the numbers prompt at dVerse!

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26 Comments

  1. July 21, 2013 at 2:15 am

    Oh, my word. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. Beautifully worded, my friend.

  2. brian miller said,

    July 21, 2013 at 2:17 am

    this goes from very humorous to touching…farts…yes you said farts…smiles…its good to hear the stories though for sure…we will miss them…and we can commit them to our memories to share on with our kids so they know the ones that are no longer here…its the way it is…

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:47 am

      Yes farts! 🙂 Can’t have the boys without the farts. Having them hear the stories is so important, isn’t it?

  3. howanxious said,

    July 21, 2013 at 2:30 am

    That s so intense and powerful… I loved how you carved the last few lines in such an emotional manner- “She tells the same stories again and again. We listen to her voice, not the words, again.”

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:48 am

      Thank you. So glad you enjoyed the poem, and I am so happy you came by.

  4. Laurie Kolp said,

    July 21, 2013 at 2:33 am

    This really touched me, made me think about my own grandmother who suffered from dementia… and my mom is aging so rapidly. Time is golden. I need to remember that. Thank you.

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:50 am

      Laurie – thanks for coming by. And yes those times with them are golden.

  5. Mary said,

    July 21, 2013 at 2:46 am

    This is very touching writing. If possible, write the stories down so that they are kept; and yes, have her tell them again and again. I am SURE that the telling does bring her joy…..and you!

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:52 am

      We love hearing her stories, and have heard them often enough to write down! She doesn’t like us recording or taking notes – she is from the old school of listening to storytellers! Thanks for coming over Mary.

  6. July 21, 2013 at 8:46 am

    Very touching and so beautifully told. Even if telling the same stories over and over again just listen to the voice… Just reminds me of my father who is suffering… a beautiful poem from the heart!

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:53 am

      It is good to hear their voices, isn’t it? So pleased you enjoyed it and glad you came by.

  7. claudia said,

    July 21, 2013 at 10:33 am

    i love the listening to her voice and finding her in it – no matter how often the stories are told – really a very touching write

  8. wolfsrosebud said,

    July 21, 2013 at 10:42 am

    ah… cared for my Dad when he had Alzheimers over ten years ago… yes, tell those stories and keep the mind active

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:54 am

      Thanks for coming by, I’m sure you know the stories well.

  9. July 21, 2013 at 1:18 pm

    That end hit a me close to home… my mother getting into that stage (not quite there though)…

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:55 am

      It is hard to watch them get close and then be there – I know you are cherishing your time. Thanks for coming by.

  10. July 21, 2013 at 5:43 pm

    Lost my grandmother to Alzheimer’s and I remember how she mixed up stories and time but she didn’t lose her sense of humor. She cracked me up. Thank you for saying listening to their voices. It helps to remember.

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:57 am

      Love that they can keep their sense of humor – your Grandma and mine. Their voices are so important, aren’t they?

  11. Rowan Taw said,

    July 21, 2013 at 8:48 pm

    Dementia can be so heartbreaking. Your opening with the horseshoes, also reminded me that it’s meant to be lucky to step in a cow pat!

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:58 am

      Ah yes I forgot about that, but I’ve stepped in enough I should be knee deep in luck! ha ha Thanks for coming by and enjoying the poem.

  12. Miriam E. said,

    July 21, 2013 at 8:57 pm

    beautiful. such love in this. my grandma has alzheimers, too – i love how her face lights up when she relives her memories…

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 3:59 am

      Miriam – it is a joy to see them light up in the telling of their stories. Sorry to hear about your grandma.

  13. kelvin s.m. said,

    July 22, 2013 at 12:30 am

    …your poem has surely touched many chords to heart… i wonder how hard for you to tell it like it is… you brought us a reminder of love & that for me is like a gem to keep… thank you… smiles..

    • shanyns said,

      July 24, 2013 at 4:00 am

      Kelvin – thank you for coming by, and it isn’t easy but love makes it easier!


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