I always had such a good memory,
But now it’s slipping away.
It began as if my precious thoughts
Were slowly emptying, one by one,
Into a cool, clear mountain stream,
Trickling their way to a larger entity
And never to be brought forth again.
Or perhaps I’m sitting at a dining table,
Enjoying a meal with a friend,
Relating interesting thoughts between bites.
Suddenly, I come to a dead halt!
I can’t think of the word! Can't fill it in!
My thought has been put on hold
Because I cannot think of the next word.
I’m embarrassed, then my friend tells me,
“I have the same problem at times.”
Others have offered their assurances as well.
But is their forgetfulness as serious as mine?
My father started this around my age—79.
So did my older brother, except he was worse.
Will my symptoms minimize either of theirs?
Did they waken from an afternoon sleep,
Confused and speaking nonsense words?
Or did they see loved ones who had passed on?
Oh my, I have so many things to think about,
With a broken mind to even make an attempt.
The mountain stream, moving my words along
Is widening and gaining in its swiftness.
It is but a matter of time that all my
Words, thoughts, and past experiences
Empty into the deepest parts of the sea.
Are they never to be brought forth again?
©️Copyright 2023 By David Lee Thompson
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Dear poet, you ask the human question to which the answer is elusive. Is this all there is? A song, I forget which, croons, “Then let’s keep dancing.” I have read that words we post in public never disappear, not necessarily a cheerful thought to this mostly sweet ole lady. I like the continued image of living words in a mountain stream which travel to larger streams until they reach the oceans to mingle with all of humanities words. As a poetic device, I find this image cheerful. The oceans are teeming with life and welcoming to more life words. Since you are a mountain man, I find it fitting to begin with a clean mountain stream vs some nasty creek draining sludge from a factory or mine. You have children, grandchildren, and friends. You are passing along your values, stories (words) even without publishing them. It is an honor to read your published words.
Tell me a person in their 70’s who doesn’t forget a word, or have similar experiences as you describe…generally referred to as ’senior moments’…
You then go on to predict what is going to happen…
You seem to have already made your mind up…?
“It is but a matter of time that all my words, thoughts and
past experiences empty into the deepest parts of the sea.”
Living with fear is so scary and unpleasant…
Having a check up may be useful, and reassure you …but writing insightful and deeply thoughtful poems as you do, I think your fears are unfounded and are merely based in fear itself…
My best wishes always…
Diana..🍃
More and more, I find that I'm stuck on names. And sometimes, words when speaking to people. While writing I don't generally hang up on words and that's a relief as a writer. My paternal grandmother showed symptoms of Alzheimer's shortly after her 85th birthday. She died at 90 not knowing anyone around her.
Like you, I'm finding out that most seniors in our 80s start to have problems with names and words. But only a few of them have Alzheimer's. I certainly hope it doesn't happen to me because I need my which about me to deal with my paralysis and aging.
Ron