Never the Same

You never did say much
During any of the holidays
Grunting at everything we touched
Disapproving looks  at all we would say
Sometimes you’d argue with us
Before retreating away
Because we would cuss
And nobody made you stay
But without you
The holidays seem so hollow
I never knew
That you were this family’s glue
I didn’t think anything
Could extinguish your flame
But cancer clipped your wings
And now things will never be the same

Been a while

Hey everyone it’s been a while since I’ve had the time to get on here. What with my job over the summer, and nursing school kicking my ass this fall I haven’t really had the time to do any writing. But with my semester having come to an end I thought I would try and get back into this. I just wanted to apologize for my absence and say that i’m looking forward to seeing what you all have written.

Miscellaneous Updates

So my book is not on the shelf I am still working on it, and as for my poetry and weekly postings I will start that up again next week! So be thinking of words! I will also be making time to check out all of your wonderful blogs as well this weekend. I apologize for my absence but I have extremely exhausted as of late. My job is a bit more physically demanding then I had anticipated it would be. So I apologize for that.

I have now been alive for 2 decades.

Its my birthday and I am now 20. Its weird.

The Heartbreak of Dementia

A touching post about how terrible dementia is and how it affects us.

Before Sundown

                                                 

by C.E.Robinson

This small woman grips the worn strap of a large black purse tucked at her side, and leans forward in the rocking chair.

Her gnarled fingers trace tiny rose petals in her skirt as if to find a path back to her life; the aging face of her daughter, her husband’s death, her 90^th birthday party, her flower shop.

She sits in the same spot every day, near the entrance door, waiting for husband and daughter to take her home. The daily vigil stops when I call her name,

Ida Mae, let’s go back to your room and look at the photos of John and Olivia, and one we took last week with all the nursing staff at your ninetieth birthday party.

I visit often, hold her hand and tell her “back when I was a little girl” stories, she told me over the years. Triggering a…

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