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    Headstall
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Headstall's Reflections - 67. Chapter 67 Foggy Windows

There are lots of good things happening in my life. I wrote this a week ago, when thinking about my mother as her birthday neared, and how loss of some memory could be a blessing. She was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, and I remember the childish joy she would exhibit sometimes, out of the blue, as if the weight of the world was finally off her shoulders. Maybe I was looking too hard for a silver lining... anyway, this is just another reflection of my own life.

*

 

Foggy Windows

 

 

The mists of time do coalesce

Unnerving me, I must confess

As scattered memories converge

To swamp me with a visceral surge

 

And logic will bow before emotion

As tended walls fall despite devotion

Bringing on a ferocious onslaught

Of things long buried 'neath well-cured rot

 

The baggage section has quintupled

From each and every lover coupled

Alas with none left by my side

There’s no safe haven for me to hide

 

Looking back, love proved not enough

Daggers to the heart fixed on my cuff

Regrets aren’t worth a copper penny

Though their numbers weigh as many

 

Declining years, it’s the course I’m on

With the gift of time decreasing each dawn

But, perchance there’s a reason for timely fog

Allowing such sorrows to slide back in the bog

 

 

 

  *

Thanks for reading. Looking back is a way to move forward, but we need the mechanisms to cope, don't we? :) Cheers!

Copyright © 2017 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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The baggage section has quintupled.... This line resonates especially with me. Your reflection on what we carry, and how much, makes a powerful statement. Can these things slide away, and allow us to travel the remaining road without their weight on our shoulders? Your hope is mine, too. 

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Hugs from me as well. :hug:

It seems to me, that you poem summarized all my thoughts from today. It touches me deeply.

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Aigh...you've hit on my greatest fear, my dear friend...the loss of myself into the mists of my own mind.  Alzheimers doesn't run in my family so far as I know, but I saw what it did to my step-father before my mom died in 2007.

She remarried to a great and funny guy in the 80s, and his kids were grown and gone, like my mom's...but he treated me like I was one of them or another grandson.  He loved telling jokes and stories, and they'd go to Ontario twice a year for a few weeks fishing, and it was on one of those trips that the first signs appeared.  He got lost in Detroit doing a trip he'd done a hundred times before, and one of my sisters had to go and bring them back.  Over the last three years my mom was alive, he grew quiet, not talking at all, and just looking off into space, and losing control of his bodily functions .  The last time I saw him was at mom's funeral, and he was on oxygen full time, in a wheelchair, and recognized no one--even his favorite grandsons he'd fished and hunted with since they were little kids.  And yet, when he was wheeled up to the casket, he looked in and began to cry.  I was told he died about six years ago in a nursing home at age 90.  The shocking thing was that I'd met his mother a year or so before she died at age 93, and her mind was clear as a bell to the end.

I hope my genes don't carry the factor that can lead to this...and judging from my mom, and what I heard of my father in his last year...I ought to be going strong mentally.  Fingers crossed.

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On 2/14/2019 at 1:18 PM, Parker Owens said:

The baggage section has quintupled.... This line resonates especially with me. Your reflection on what we carry, and how much, makes a powerful statement. Can these things slide away, and allow us to travel the remaining road without their weight on our shoulders? Your hope is mine, too. 

... For each and every lover coupled... that's my reality, and probably the reality for a lot of us. I'm pleased it resonated, Parker. :) I think we have the ability for temporary respite, and maybe the aging process helps with that. A better cure might be a love that works... one that doesn't leave us alone. Okay... that sounds heavy... but hopeful. :unsure: 

 

Thanks for reading, buddy... cheers... Gary....

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On 2/14/2019 at 1:31 PM, aditus said:

You need a hug!:hug:

Thanks, Adi. You're right... it's a tough month for me. :hug: 

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On 2/14/2019 at 2:16 PM, Lyssa said:

Hugs from me as well. :hug:

It seems to me, that you poem summarized all my thoughts from today. It touches me deeply.

Thanks, Lyssa. I enjoyed hearing from you, and hope you are doing well. Being touched by something, and sharing something, is a good reminder we are alive and not alone. :hug: 

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On 2/14/2019 at 5:00 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

Aigh...you've hit on my greatest fear, my dear friend...the loss of myself into the mists of my own mind.  Alzheimers doesn't run in my family so far as I know, but I saw what it did to my step-father before my mom died in 2007.

She remarried to a great and funny guy in the 80s, and his kids were grown and gone, like my mom's...but he treated me like I was one of them or another grandson.  He loved telling jokes and stories, and they'd go to Ontario twice a year for a few weeks fishing, and it was on one of those trips that the first signs appeared.  He got lost in Detroit doing a trip he'd done a hundred times before, and one of my sisters had to go and bring them back.  Over the last three years my mom was alive, he grew quiet, not talking at all, and just looking off into space, and losing control of his bodily functions .  The last time I saw him was at mom's funeral, and he was on oxygen full time, in a wheelchair, and recognized no one--even his favorite grandsons he'd fished and hunted with since they were little kids.  And yet, when he was wheeled up to the casket, he looked in and began to cry.  I was told he died about six years ago in a nursing home at age 90.  The shocking thing was that I'd met his mother a year or so before she died at age 93, and her mind was clear as a bell to the end.

I hope my genes don't carry the factor that can lead to this...and judging from my mom, and what I heard of my father in his last year...I ought to be going strong mentally.  Fingers crossed.

I will be hopeful for you, and you can be hopeful for me, my friend. :)  I have this great fear of such a thing happening, and I guess I was trying to see something good  come from it with my mother.

 

It's funny how we can build walls to protect us, yet one little trigger can crumble them. Fortunately, I'm getting good at resurrecting them. :)  Love ya, buddy. xoxoxo :hug: 

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Very sad, yet well written piece. Your description of foggy memories is described well. Thanks for the share :).

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6 minutes ago, BDANR said:

Very sad, yet well written piece. Your description of foggy memories is described well. Thanks for the share :).

It was a week of contemplation as my mother's birthday neared. As a matter of fact, it's coming around again in a couple of weeks. I miss her terribly still, but death and loss is a part of life, and I have my memories. I hope I can keep them until it's my turn to go. If not, then I will take the foggy memories. :)  Thanks for thinking it well written, and thanks for the lovely comment. :hug: 

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