He stared at us sternly <br />from his oval frame above the table - <br />a rugged, handsome man <br />in his early fifties <br />with neatly clipped moustache and cowboy hat. <br /> <br />Later, at the nursing home, <br />they wheeled him toward us - <br />breath whistling through ancient lungs, <br />toothless mouth gaping, <br />eyes fixed inanely on the ceiling. <br /> <br />I used not to like him. <br />Dogmatic and dictatorial, <br />bossy and bellicose - <br />a man too fond of boozing <br />and laughing at his own jokes. <br /> <br />But today, when milky eyes <br />lit up in recognition, <br />and skinny hands clung- <br />I felt a wave of such tenderness <br />as I could not have imagined. <br /> <br />I took him in my arms <br />and kissed his scrappy hair, <br />and felt strangely at peace in his company. <br />Dementia had lifted the mask <br />to reveal the soul smiling beneath.<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alan-s-alzheimers/
