Can't stop thinking about memory
Where they are stored and for how long?
When do they start to slip away?
When they start to slip away.
Watching my aunt not know what day it is
Or care who is the president of these United States
Seeing her life becoming void of what needs to be done
Sitting and wondering out loud why her husband looks old?
His kind and gentle look back at her
so full of love and knowing
The she he married and loved these many, many years,
is not the she who sits before him any longer
Body wasting away
mind half gone
memory a thing of the past never to return again
What must that be like for him, for her?
He who understands his losses
The pain in that, the acceptance of what he cannot change
She, oblivious now, not even getting agitated
except while trying to drape
a pair of "someone else's pants size sixteen not mine too big"
over a hanger and their slick
fabric refusing to lie balanced
so she can hang them up again
something she can