He already is

Did you get the picture I sent?

Yes, I got it yesterday.

I put my name on it so he could

see that it was me.

I showed it to him and he read your name

and he was showing people your picture.

Oh good. So it made him happy.

Don’t worry, Shana, he won’t forget you.

And I think to myself

Of course he will, mom.

He already is.

It's your daughter

Hi, it’s Shana.

Is it a good time to talk to dad?

Well let’s try.

The last few days he hasn’t been able

to figure out how to talk on the phone.

Yeah, he’s having a hard time understanding

that someone is talking to him.

Jim, it’s your daughter, Shana.

Say hello.

Put this to your ear.

Now say hello to Shana.

Right here, Jim.

It’s Shana. Say hello.

It’s okay. It’s alright. I will try again tomorrow.

Okay. Sorry.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Yeah, maybe tomorrow it’ll be better. 

My Character

Sometimes I make up stories

like movies and scenes

that I imagine are real.

And my character is

tormented and angry

and sad and lonely

and guilty and worried

and awkard

and wanting help

and not wanting to be helped.

So that I can feel the

made up emotions of

of a made up story

of my made up character

and not the real ones

for the real reasons.  

Is he in there

Is he in there.

Is he trying to speak
and he hears the non-sense
words coming out,
but that's not what he
tried to say
and he knows
it's wrong
but he can't make his
mouth work.

Is he like a paralyzed
man trying to move,
knowing how to move,
knowing he can't now.

Is he trapped in there like that.
Does he know the disease is trapping him.

Hearing what he says doesn't make sense.
Hearing us speak back to his nonsense.
Saying the words over and over,
hearing them come out wrong.
Wanting to say the words
so we will know he is in there
trying to get out.

Is he in there
knowing he can't?

Don't forget

Don't forget to speak
to his eternal self
though it is temporarily
trapped
in disease
that makes one think
he can't hear you,
but he can.

His soul can.

How is it?

Hey ma, so how is it now,
by yourself in the house?

Oh, it's weird.
I miss dad being here.
You know, when he was nice, not the agitated times.
I don't like thinking about him being somewhere else.
I guess I will get used to it though, huh?
Like my mom said, after my dad died, you just get used to it,
it's not comfortable, you just get used to it.
I guess that's how it is.

When will I stop looking

Last night I spent hours online,
again,
researching a last hope
given by a single doctor
two years ago.

He wasn't really wrong,
but it is still,
Alzheimer's.

And I wondered if that
was truly my last hope
of waking dad up.

But I will most likely
keep looking for another hope.
When will I stop looking?
How could I stop looking?