what age takes away it sometimes gives back
Names
She was Eliza for a few weeks
when she was a baby -
Eliza Lily. Soon it changed to Lil.
Later she was Miss Steward in the baker’s shop
And then ‘my love’, ‘my darling’, Mother.
Widowed at thirty, she went back to work
As Mrs Hand. Her daughter grew up,
Married and gave birth.
Now she was Nanna. ‘Everybody
Calls me Nanna,’ she would say to visitors.
And so they did - friends, tradesmen, the doctor.
In the geriatric ward
They used the patients’ Christian names.
‘Lil,’ we said, ‘or Nanna,’
But it wasn’t in her file
And for those last bewildered weeks
She was Eliza once again.
by Wendy Cope
Earlier this year Joseph Fasano published a book of poetry prompts, The Magic Words. Since release, Fasano has been receiving poems inspired by these prompts from his readers, some of which he posts to his Twitter account. What follows is a letter from a reader containing one of these poems.
Dear Mr. Fasano,
My mother is 92 years young and living with dementia, which makes communication challenging. I brought your book of poetry prompts to her yesterday and she was very excited to use one to write a "poem." We worked slowly through the prompt and she said the words to me aloud. Here it is below. (She was a ballet dancer in her youth, which explains some of her word choices). I don't know quite how to thank you for helping people find their voices.
AFFIRMATION
Let the days be warm.
Let the fall be long.
Let every child inside me find her shoes
and dance wildly, softly, toward this world.
I have a story I have never told:
Once, when I was small,
I looked up at the sky and saw the wind
and I knew I was a dancer made of song.
I am still a dancer made of song.
She was Eliza for a few weeks
when she was a baby -
Eliza Lily. Soon it changed to Lil.
Later she was Miss Steward in the baker’s shop
And then ‘my love’, ‘my darling’, Mother.
Widowed at thirty, she went back to work
As Mrs Hand. Her daughter grew up,
Married and gave birth.
Now she was Nanna. ‘Everybody
Calls me Nanna,’ she would say to visitors.
And so they did - friends, tradesmen, the doctor.
In the geriatric ward
They used the patients’ Christian names.
‘Lil,’ we said, ‘or Nanna,’
But it wasn’t in her file
And for those last bewildered weeks
She was Eliza once again.
by Wendy Cope
Earlier this year Joseph Fasano published a book of poetry prompts, The Magic Words. Since release, Fasano has been receiving poems inspired by these prompts from his readers, some of which he posts to his Twitter account. What follows is a letter from a reader containing one of these poems.
Dear Mr. Fasano,
My mother is 92 years young and living with dementia, which makes communication challenging. I brought your book of poetry prompts to her yesterday and she was very excited to use one to write a "poem." We worked slowly through the prompt and she said the words to me aloud. Here it is below. (She was a ballet dancer in her youth, which explains some of her word choices). I don't know quite how to thank you for helping people find their voices.
AFFIRMATION
Let the days be warm.
Let the fall be long.
Let every child inside me find her shoes
and dance wildly, softly, toward this world.
I have a story I have never told:
Once, when I was small,
I looked up at the sky and saw the wind
and I knew I was a dancer made of song.
I am still a dancer made of song.