“You can’t explain what it’s like to mourn someone who’s still alive unless you’ve experienced it first hand.”
I can’t remember most of their names, those who were important to me, those I cared for across the years, those who lived when I left, left to enjoy the autumn of my life.
I have no doubt that my memory is failing, I know the signs. I know them all too well. I fear them. I fear for my future. I fear I will wake up one morning not realising that the essential me, the me I am happy with, the me that I am happy being, will have disappeared whilst I slept.
I will awake a lost soul. And I can’t bear the thought of that.
Winter is nearing
leaving distant my selfhood,
Please know this is not about me, but thoughts based on memories of my mum who I have been thinking of often of late.
Shared with the good folk at Poets United, the Pantry being hosted by Mary - cheers Mary!
Image courtesy of: Wikimedia Commons