Monday, June 22, 2015

The raspberries are starting to come in.  I got the plants from Grandma Faerber's patch many years ago and have given tons of plants to others since.  I wrote this poem for her when she was in the nursing home.  Isn't this a great picture of her when she was young?



For Grandma Faerber

She sits in her little room all alone.
They’ve sold her possessions, sold her home.
She hates them sometimes, thinks they don’t care.
Likes to know someone remembers she’s there.
Take her hand, try to ease her pain.
Give her a smile if only for a little while.
Can’t see to sew or watch TV.
Can’t hear, so there’s no conversation over tea.
No listening to music, no card games,
Day in, day out, it’s all the same.
Give her a hug, try to ease her pain.
Give her a smile if only for a little while.
A card from a friend is good for a day.
Then she begins to resent it.  They’re far away
They don’t understand, they’re not alone.
They have their lives, they have their home.
No dreams to come true.  That’s all in the past.
No adventures to have.  Her strength wouldn’t last.
She has to bear this life all alone.
She misses her husband.  She misses her home.
Take her hand try to ease her pain.
Give her a smile if only for a little while.
She likes to have you sitting there.
They like to know someone remembers they’re there.

2 comments:

  1. How painfully true! Perhaps this should be posted in nursing home administration desks or sent along with the bills to the family!

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  2. You captured the sentiment so simply and so well.
    I'm currently reading Atul Gawande's "Being Mortal," which talks about these very issues. It isn't an easy book to read - most of us would rather ignore the inevitable - but it's making me think in all the right ways. My hope is that it will make me a better daughter, and a better old fart when my time comes. :-)

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