First Light of Day
"Restless Dawn" Short Fiction Contest
Jason had this great short fiction contest going on but I missed the deadline. Lately, more of my writing has been nonfiction and this picture was so inspiring, I thought I’d post what I’d written in the few minutes I had last night after Mom went to bed and before I fell asleep. It's not fiction, but at least I wrote something for a change.
P.S. I might add that I've never claimed to be much of a poet. :D
First Light of Day
by Joanne D. Kiggins
Each evening as the sun goes down and I tuck you into bed.
I wonder how your day has been and what goes through your head.
Each day keeps getting harder to keep you occupied.
Yet you find so much comfort with me by your side.
Your memory continues to fade with each passing day.
Still, the words “I love you” we always manage to say.
If I had one wish for you as Alzheimer’s takes your life.
It would be that you’re truly not aware of your daily strife.
I do not want to think of the day you won’t be around.
When the monitor’s turned off, replaced with silent sound.
Each night I say “I’ll see you in the morning” and then I go to pray.
Hoping that when I wake, you too will see the first light of day.
Labels: Alzheimer’s, Clarity of Night, First Light of Day, Jason, jdkiggins
Make me smile. Leave a comment...
Comment Icon From Paper Napkin
7 Comments:
OK, I was doing alright reading this until I got to the part about the monitor being turned off. Now the tears are coming again.
The picture is absolutly beautiful too.
I'm so sorry my poem put a damper on what was a truly lovely day with Ann, Lori. If it's any comfort to you, I was crying when I wrote it. :( I wasn't thinking of just my mom when I wrote that poem; I was thinking of all of you who have lost loved ones recently. I still keep you all very close in my heart and my thoughts and prayers.
beautiful poem joanne. the monitor part got me too. one of the only good things about AD is that i really believe that for about the last 4-6 months left of russ' life, he truly didn't realize that there was anything wrong with him. and for that i am thankful and take great comfort in.
Pass the tissues! You got me too!
Yup - I was fine until the monitor part. As you know, that was how I knew Mom was gone. Turning it off and putting it away (well, actually I only turned it off and tucked it under my bed) was a very sad time for me.
I agree with Nancy. I really don't think my mom was aware of her decline until the very last night of her life. Even then she thought her weak legs were just her arthritis rearing its ugly head.
Hang in there, Joanne. Thanks for sharing a lovely poem with us.
Joanne,
The monitor ...yelp it got me. Can I borrow some tissues?
Nancy and Betsy, Mom hasn't realized her decline for more than six months now. She doesn't realize there is anything wrong with her at all. The only thing she's mentioned at all is that her legs are weak and she's tired.
Tissues for everyone! Sorry the monitor part got to everyone. That's where I started to cry when I was writing it, too.