That you, dementia, took over
I know I was young when you
did
It was the year 2013 when you started
I was 4
My sister was 1
My mom was 37
His son, A.K.A my dad, was 37 also
You were nice then; you were slowly introducing yourself to everyone
You weren’t like your siblings
Taking over the person's mind in the blink of an eye
They all thought it was old age that made
Him forget stuff
Simple things like turning the water faucet off, leaving the doors
locked, or even turning the burners off after cooking
Cooking was Grandpa’s favorite thing to do
They knew it was something serious when you made
Him forget how to get home from work.
Work for him wasn't even that far from home
He went to the doctor and found out you moved in
You, as in dementia
The doctor gives him a pill to slow you down.
You made them take away his license
Which is crazy you did, considering he was a mechanic for cars.
Grandpa loved working on cars.
As time went on, you were still nice, just slowly moving in
I would go over to hang out with him, and he would repeat questions
I would answer them like I heard the question the first time
He always asked about my chickens
Grandpa loved coming over and sitting out by the chickens
He asked me how the chickens are
I said they are doing well
He asked me how the chickens are
I said they are well, with sadness behind it
Grandpa would also ask me how I was doing in basketball
Grandpa loved watching my basketball games
Maybe that’s why I don’t play anymore
Knowing he wouldn’t be there
He continued to take medicine to slow you down
But you continued to make yourself at home
When you took away his license, you took away his business
Larson’s auto shop down main street
Or, as most know it, as pelicans or the place that does cute decorations
For holidays
Grandpa and his brother owned it
They shared the same love of working on cars
As years went by, after you took everything he loved
He just sat in his blue chair with gold stripes on it, slightly reclined
Watching his cowboy shows with John Wayne
He loved the scenes with a gun shoot out and the loud bang bang of the gun shots.
He would always eat Cheetos when he watched TV
Grandpa loved Cheetos
I would watch his cowboy shows with him
While he watched his shows, sometimes my sister and I would
Go up behind his chair and scare him
We would blow up balloons and pop them
It was always funny to see him jump or
We would turn his lamp on when he wasn’t looking
He would look back at us and laugh
I was never able to know the Wayne everyone knew before you came
I only know him through the stories people tell me
Like how he would cook a recipe so many times until he got it perfect
Or all his hunting stories
Them telling me these stories made me hope that you would go away
But little did I know you would always be there
Sitting at the dinner table with us, not mocking us though
But being that annoying little sibling
You would follow us around, but you wouldn’t say anything and just stare
You eventually moved all the way in
You made yourself at home
You would walk around the family gatherings, introducing yourself
To the same people over and over again
Saying “Hi, how are you? Who are you?”
Grandma couldn’t always be home for him, so she made a decision
A tough decision
She decided to put him in a home that would take care of people who also had
your relatives in them
You would soon have a family gathering
You started to renovate your house, losing all the original furniture and painting inside.
His family all had their last lunch with him
We all went to his favorite lunch spot
Los Pepe's
Grandpa loved Mexican food
We all finished our lunch
You were sitting in the booth next to us
We finished our lunch and said our goodbyes
You didn’t say goodbye, though
You gave us all a hug and then left with him
Holding his hand and walking him to the car
Looking out the window and smiling at us, not waving, though
Fast forward to a year later to
When the doctor took him off the pill that was supposed to slow you down because it wasn't working
Fast forward to a year later to
When he began not to eat anymore because he couldn’t remember, making him thin
Fast forward to a year later to
When Grandma called crying and said, “Daddy died,”
His son getting up from the couch straight-faced, going to tell his wife
Walking back into the living room hugging me and telling me that they
We're going to go see him that night
They arrive there looking at him.
You sitting in the corner in his blue chair with gold stripes
What he watched his cowboy shows in
Sitting there, watching everyone mourn, but you didn’t mourn
But you also showed no emotion,
Because you knew there was no reverse on the damage you did
No emotions are coming from you, just silence as you walk out to find the next
I write this poem to you.
I hope you understand the destruction you did
You were like a hurricane coming through
Causing so much destruction to everything in your path
From his memory to even his family
I wrote this poem to you
With hate
Hate that built over time as we got closer
We weren’t even friends
I wrote this poem to you
With the fear and guilt I had built up
The fear of visiting Grandpa and him not remembering me
The guilt I had of not visiting him
Not ever seeing him after that lunch
I wrote this poem to you
Because I hate you
--Paige L., 9th-12th Grade