This is my dad.
Hope you enjoy <3
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Playlist inspired by the poem:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0RgxmwTAygBGUlXxbVqU8T?si=814218267c1e468c
A retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" surrounding dementia.
Dementia is framed as burdensome. It is something deep-down, we all fear. Part six of a series I've written while my caring for my elderly mother.
My mother's thorns will not prick me any more.
Day Two (Part III) of me filling in as sole carer for my mother.
Dear readers, I must confess to a lie. I have misled you all.
Part V in a series about providing care for my mother who suffers from dementia.
So this is late, but it's my final piece in my series about my nine days caring for my elderly mother.
I will be my mother's sole carer for nine days. I am, at once, excited but also absolutely terrified.
Blue pill? Red pill? Part four of my chronicles as I step up as the sole carer for my mother for nine days.
A poem about two grandfathers that I knew once and that knew me.
When does a life cease to be a life worth living? Some questions are just too hard... Part eight in this series. Won't pretend I didn't struggle with this piece.
Sage has a strong scent. Why do I need sage? In moments of clarity, I recall. I pick silvery leaves from the pot on the sill and forget.
Last part of the story "One Step Ahead"
Dementia robs the memories from our loved ones. This is a tribute to my great-grandmother, my nanny, who passed away at 98 in December 2018. RIP
Hope you enjoy <3
.
.
.
.
Playlist inspired by the poem:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0RgxmwTAygBGUlXxbVqU8T?si=814218267c1e468c
A retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" surrounding dementia.
Dementia is framed as burdensome. It is something deep-down, we all fear. Part six of a series I've written while my caring for my elderly mother.
My mother's thorns will not prick me any more.
Day Two (Part III) of me filling in as sole carer for my mother.
Dear readers, I must confess to a lie. I have misled you all.
Part V in a series about providing care for my mother who suffers from dementia.
So this is late, but it's my final piece in my series about my nine days caring for my elderly mother.
I will be my mother's sole carer for nine days. I am, at once, excited but also absolutely terrified.
Blue pill? Red pill? Part four of my chronicles as I step up as the sole carer for my mother for nine days.
A poem about two grandfathers that I knew once and that knew me.
When does a life cease to be a life worth living? Some questions are just too hard... Part eight in this series. Won't pretend I didn't struggle with this piece.
Sage has a strong scent. Why do I need sage? In moments of clarity, I recall. I pick silvery leaves from the pot on the sill and forget.
Last part of the story "One Step Ahead"
Dementia robs the memories from our loved ones. This is a tribute to my great-grandmother, my nanny, who passed away at 98 in December 2018. RIP