This next one actually stemmed from something completely unrelated. I've been working within a small company for the past few months, and within that time I've learned a lot about myself and the people I like to have around me.
One particular person is one of my colleagues. I don't have any specific attachment to her, but we share stories about life and the important, significant people and events in our lives. She's about 30 years my senior, but I feel like we're on the same level, with similar personalities. We recently had a conversation about Alzheimer's and an experience she had with a family member. She explained a scenario where someone she loved found themselves back to their childhood days and could no longer remember her for who she was.
I know it's a horrible experience, and watching the tears whelm up in her eyes really relayed the effect it can have on family and friends. But while I sat with her, and while tears dropped from her eyes, the reality of it hit me. And, while it's tough for the people surrounding the individual with the illness, I like to think of this as a beautiful thing.
An illness that brings you right back to your happiest days... I like to think it's a happy thing, for the effected. Just imagining the blissfulness of it all, like a really vivid, perfect dream..
I'd never wish the illness on anyone, and I'm not saying it's a good thing. I just like the idea of believing the ill individual is actually returning to a happier point in their life. Lets forget about the surroundings, I'm talking about the feeling they must have inside, the innate happiness that existed before the world withered the leaves, from the branches, that sprung from nourished roots.
It brought me to think of my earliest memories. And that's when I wrote "Ambivalence".. And of course, it's dedicated to my big sister, Caroline, who was the most prominent figure back in the day. We remember a lot of things, from different angles, and that amuses and vexes me all at the same time.
But here's to you, with a thank you, for giving me happiness to return to if ever the day shall come.
Ambivalence
Can you remember it the way I do?
Right foot, left foot, tip-toe to heel.
There’s lino in the hallway,
And the walls are painted teal.
There are five seats round the table,
And the kitchen door is open wide.
The garden is the greenest colour,
And you’re beckoning me outside.
The days are long and sunny,
And a pleasant hum hangs in the air.
The grass feels waxy against our bare feet,
And we’re dirty, but we don’t care.
You’re happy, and I can feel it.
Perhaps you’ve been my best friend since then.
You smile, as we run around gathering flowers,
To make a mud pie, from scratch, again.
Your hair has not yet been coloured,
And I can see your natural face.
Your clothes are vibrant in their colours.
And your arm is bare of that rueful lace.
And when you talk, your voice is different.
Your eyes stand out against the cloudy sky.
You tower me, as we stand side-by-side,
And we don’t even notice the hours go by.
Do you remember it the same way I do?
Or is the hallway colour up for debate?
Are you recalling my makeshift seat at the table,
Picturing me on a toolbox, reaching for my plate?
Are you remembering how Mum used to tell us,
To go outside and play in the garden, while it’s sunny.
She said “if it was raining, we’d be crying to get out,”
And we always found it funny?
Are you thinking it was not just us two,
Who stood, making mud-pies near the pallets.
Are you happy you grew to be the person you are now,
And it was worth it, despite regrets?
Do you think, when we are older,
And we no longer look as we used to,
We’ll stand side-by-side, in the garden,
You’ll look down at me, and I’ll look up at you?
We’ll compare the grass, to that that’s greener,
And we’ll look up to the sky so blue.
The flowers will have withered with the decades.
And I’ll wonder if you remember it the way I do?
For more information on Alzheimer's, visit http://www.alzheimer.ie
😘😍😍❤❤❤
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