This is my husband, my mother said <br />to the nurse with pride, <br />only she meant me. <br />Everyone in the day-room knew <br />who it was she had been expecting all day <br />waiting like a birthday child. <br />We all laughed and put her right, <br />and she laughed and continued <br />... and this is her husband <br />(only she should have said, This is his wife) . <br />So we all laughed again, <br />and my mother laughed as much as anybody. <br /> <br />Later, walking round the garden, she showed us the flowers <br />– roses, geraniums, poppies – <br />only she called them all lilies. <br />You can go home, the doctor had told her, <br />when you remember your name. <br />Who are you? <br />– Lily, she said, Lily. <br />Lilies out there (pointing at the roses) . <br />Well, at least she knows lilies are flowers. <br /> <br />It isn't as if her mind has gone, <br />I keep telling myself, <br />it's only the words won't come. <br />A week ago she knew her way <br />through the dictionary blindfold, <br />amazing at anagrams <br />scholarly at Scrabble, <br />and quicker than anyone she knew <br />to finish the daily crossword. <br />But now the thoughts that chase round <br />and round her puzzled brain <br />find no expression. <br />How can you say it's 'only' the words? <br /> <br />Having survived the first critical week <br />she is in no immediate danger. <br />She might last any time; <br />she might go any time. <br />All this, somehow, she realises, <br />and hasn't even the words to tell us <br />she knows and is not afraid. <br />Then after awkward silences <br />and awkwardly cheerful conversations <br />it's time to leave. <br />Will you help me on to the bus? she says <br />– meaning the bed – <br />and she laughs again. <br />After all, it's better than crying.<br /><br />Paul Hansford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-the-stroke-2/
