Soups and Forks

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She eats her soup  
and wonders who the people are in front of her 
They call her mum 
it makes her uneasy – 
she doesn’t know who they are

She spills her drink down her shirt 
hating the man she’s been told is her husband
He wipes her chin as she glares at him – 
she’s not a child

She scratches at the feel of her jumper 
itchy on her skin, but she won’t say anything 
Someone will try to change her – 
she hates being touched

She tries to contribute to the conversation, 
but the words come out jumbled
She forgets what she was going to say – 
she’s angry as everyone stares

She looks around the table mystified, 
no one and nothing is familiar 
Confused by all she sees, she picks up a fork – 
and continues eating her soup


One of my friend’s parents was diagnosed with early onset Dementia. I’ve watched them over the years navigate the different stages… it’s been a difficult road for them all.

13 thoughts on “Soups and Forks

  1. My grandapa’s brother has no idea about his family. All he says is, I wanna go home and just leaves his bed even when he’s bedridden. Life’s unpredictable really.

    You captured their emotions really well in the poem, Bree.

    Liked by 1 person

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