Few who are suffering from this disease can say this with any force of conviction, much less remember that it’s even evening, or that the last word was supposed to be “Destruction”. Malapropism is fun, but not when your brain, along with your body, is failing you…
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
I Don’t Believe I’m on the Eve of Dementia: Malapropism
There’s a rift in my bones, I say phoo-ey.
I hate to complain,
but I cannot sustain
how longing I’m getting mildew-y
So downward and downwards I go.
I stutter, my language is slow.
I’m baffled each night
as my fears each take flight.
Like the horse placed in front of the cart,
Roll me off of that cliff, please have heart.
It’s not a malaprop
to have an absence of “Stop!”
‘Cause it’s well past the time to depart.
HA! Love it! Great fun with the words! 🙂
yes, it was/is.
It started out as a light piece, and became a themed one as I smoothed it, rewrote it, and then it took on its on life. Which was really my father’s at the end of his.
As children we desperately wanted to stay up a little later in the evening, so it is with life…”just a little bit more please”!
My mother kept saying that she was ready to die, and when the time came, she opened her eyes, looked at me, and whispered, “Too soon.”
There is a sense of nursery rhyme underneath this…and like most children’s rhymes a delicious undercurrent of darkness and warning
Isn’t that the truth,
Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies,
ashes, ashes, we all fall down….
Go on, stay a little longer! A delightfully light hearted approach to a serious issue
I think I will, as a matter of fact, but mostly of faith.
Glad to see your insight as to the light hearted approach to a serious issue.
The rhythm of this makes me think of nursery rhymes. Absolutely love it!
Exactly my intentions.
Alzheimer’s make its victims become childlike.
Thank you for commenting – and visiting
I’ve been the caretaker for two people with Alzheimer’s. It is a terrible disease.
When I saw a spot on your blog about contributing, I figured you had some involvement.
I watched my dad deteriorate for about 6 long years. Very sad, But in the midst of it, we did have a few oases in the desert. He could sing if i started a song, and then he’d remember all the words on his own. What a joy to sing to together. Or, dance. Or speak gibberish to each other – and he’d laugh until he’d start to cough.and so did I. There were other moments we grab, but that is for another time.
Thanks for helping me remember.
I love hearing these kinds of stories. I helped take care of my grandfather and now my uncle. He’s in the nursing home now and I’m doing the walk for their team. It’s frightening to see it running through our family. My uncle has a fantastic sense of humor though and that gets us through.
you’ve done a great job painting this disease … good job.
Thank you. Randy
Your limericks gallop along the words with glee but underneath lies such sadness. I am astounded by what you are able to convey in three verses.
thank you for reading and commenting with your kind words. Thank you. Randy