Wednesday, May 6, 2015

VISITS TO MOTHER-IN-LAW AT THE NURSING HOME



Shrunken, shriveled, disheveled,
a little drool slips out of her open mouth
as she sleeps, stiff, a corpse.  "Wake up Lazarus,
while you still can," I say to myself before I stir her,
before she smiles happily but doesn't recognize me 
with her beady drug dilated eyes,
before she insists she's going back
to New York, to work, to cook, to watch Spanish TV.
And can I get rid of those people who live in that tree?

She remembers what I can't, sees what I don't see.
Her mind no longer in sync with reason, thinks
in unknown realms.  Her body, translucent now,
blood and veins wrapped in paper thin skin, 
still functions, slowly, weakly.
Yet, her spirit remarkably expands
her capacity for simply BEING love.  
That's what I embrace when I hug the carcass
of her life, aware of the heroine she still is. 

(For Poets United where Susan prompts us to write honoring our Elders.)


23 comments:

  1. I want to hear more about her, this love wrapped in such fragile skin! Strong images and emotion! Thanks.

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  2. This poem has touched my heart deeply.. it must be devastating to see her like that!
    Its a beautiful tribute to her! I felt your fierce love & support towards her! May God bless her with health & keep her acres away from pain. Amen

    Lots of love
    Sanaa

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  3. Myrna, you have such a beautiful heart. I read with such compassion and rejoiced that you know she is now BEING love.......so are you, in visiting one who no longer recognizes you. I am struck by the embracing of the carcass, while seeing the bright spirit within. Stellar write, my friend! I love it.

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  4. twilight years would be so much better if there were no pains but that is rare...in spite of her translucent body "her capacity for simply BEING love.' is rare too... how tenderly you brought her to us...beautiful Myrna

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  5. Myrna, this is lovely and bittersweet. Reminds me of visiting my aunt, who lived with us until she was past the point where Mom could take care of her... strokes, etc. Your words create an intimate portrait. The lines about watching Spanish TV and then - flick! - getting rid of the people living in that tree... astonishing. You captured that in/out of folks who are drugged up but still living in the only place where they can receive care. I totally got this. Thanks so much, and I pray she is not experiencing pain in her oblivion. Amy

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  6. You've portrayed her so tenderly, so delicately.. even when she is in the state of "her capacity for simply BEING love"...amazing, Myrna... !

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  7. Heartrending. And beautiful. Thank you.

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  8. 'I hug the carcass of her life' ~ such a vivid description and so heartbreaking. A lovely tribute.

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  9. Myrna, I agree with your description of the elderly's paper-thin skin for I saw an old lady with it at church one day. It just makes me tear up knowing we all will become that in the near future if death doesn't get to us sooner. thanks for the warming feelings that your poem conjured in me. I miss my grandparents so much.

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  10. What a stunningly beautiful poem. This surely would tears to any reader's eyes.

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  11. Heartbreaking images, and a lot of love. Wonderful poem, Myrna.

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  12. Myrna,

    So difficult when the one we love, is fading before our eyes, bodily. Even more difficult, when they have really left us, when forgetfulness or dementia has drawn them away from our connection. I witnessed this as a nurse, and sadly with relatives of my own..Your poem is a magnificent and caring observation.

    Eileen

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  13. I am touched to the point of tears. How good that you are so aware!

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  14. I love so many phrases in your poem, such stunning images. Two of my favorites:
    "Wake up Lazarus while you still can" and "hug the carcass of her life"

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  15. Myrna, this is kind of painful to read, as I think we will all eventually become the 'carcass of life' that you have described. The best possible scenario would be that when this happens to us we will have someone to love and appreciate us as much as you love your-mother-in-law. I do remember when my mother used to visit my uncle in a nursing home. He too talked about going to New York, etc. which was all a fantasy. My mother entered into this fantasy with him, and they had a wonderful conversation. Never mind it was all a fantasy....neither minded.

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  16. What we are can survive the most terrible of challenges...we must always love that.. as you have so wonderfully demonstrated here

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  17. You MIL is fortunate in having such a loving compassionate family. I like the people in the trees part of the story. She sounds like a real character:)

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  18. I would consider it a blessing that she can escape the present.

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  19. Ah.. yes i can truly say now with heart.. soul.. and spirit fully in tow and expressed that there are worst things in life than losing intellect.. like imagination.. creativity.. and feeling life.. and as long as those exist.. even if.. they do not make sense.. a heart.. a soul.. and spirit is still set free..:)

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  20. i can imagine how painful it is on one hand to see her drifting and living in her own world like that and yet - maybe it is not such a bad place to be - closer to the inner than the outer world? it sometimes scares me though...

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  21. A poignant and touching poem, Myrna. There is hardly anyone amongst us who has not experienced the devastation of dementia in a relative or friend. And yet, as you say, even that shell of a person is capable of love and inspires love.

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  22. So beautiful Myrna… that you are able to see her soul expanding as her body and mind dissolve… a good companion piece with the poem about the grandchildren above. Oh, all these years with the ladies, now finally peace is drawing near. You are such a good and kind being, a true blessing in this world dear one.

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