My father had dementia. Here he is, trying to escape the nursing home to find my mom. She passed away three months before he did.
In his wheelchair,
he uses his good hand
to pull himself along
the confusing corridors
of his mind.
Everyone who walks by
has possible information.
He asks them all
if they've seen her.
He is crestfallen.
"Five minutes feels like two hours."
She has been missing
all day.
She's not in the dining room.
He's surprised
she hasn't joined us for lunch.
Maybe she's playing bingo.
We can't find her there,
yet we keep searching...
because he is worried...
and he wants to find her...
the slowest,
saddest
game of hide n' seek.
My father never stopped looking for her.
Like
Share
About the Creator
Pamela Adams
In addition to writing the occasional haiku, I also enjoy quilting, playing ukulele & am currently teaching myself how to juggle.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.