We live near a short-term care facility and often see people in wheelchairs as family spends time with them and helps them to enjoy the outdoors, such as today. What I saw this evening, has caused me to step back a bit, and remember my grandmother. Seeing an individual with dementia, and those moments when the slight grip on reality has disappeared, is heart-wrenching, and humbling. I guess there is not much more to say this evening, except for this poem I wrote.
Already the threads are slim
and tenuous at best
and the grip we do have to this reality
is fragile and precious.
Those moments when when the
veil is most thick isolates
the vision, the mind, the being
from the moment, regardless of its
reality, what only matters is perception,
and when the perception is shut-off
when the light in the long, winding
tunnel disappears, survival takes over –
the innate, animalistic, and raw fight
to survive instincts wrestle control
from the flailing being.
4 responses to “Observation this evening”
Yes, sometimes witnessing such intense demonstrations how vulnerable we truly are in the human form, make us realize so much about our ‘now’ — it’s easy to be distracted and forget sometimes… thanks for sharing this encounter as it can enlighten us all… & Most welcome always ~ R
The whole experience brought back memories of my grandmother and what she was going through the last couple of years.
Very thought provoking William… perception is so much of what makes us human it seems — and under that, as you said – we become more connected to our primitive selves — with survival as the primary focus… beautifully written ~ thank you for this sharing! `RL
It was tough to watch an older gentleman, presumably with dementia, forget where he was and not recognize the people around him. How could I not personalize the situation and, of course through are super human abilities, vow to never have that happen to me. 🙂 But, it brought everything to the present, and made me realize what I have, here and now. Thank you for your kind words, as always, my friend.