Thank you Mr. Frost
Nothing Gold can stay
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay. Robert Frost
Knowing your mortal and feeling your own mortality are two different things for sure. I have never felt as alone as I do right now. Sitting with someone who suffers from dementia and thinks you are their son can do that to you. Watching helplessly as the life escapes those pale blue eyes. Childlike eyes faded from the years, his mind faded from Alzheimer's. I will never forget the kindness in his eyes, and in his words. Words meant for his son but delivered to me. This old dying man gave me the most precious gift. I know it was meant for someone else but he gave it to me. I held his hand in the early hours of the morning. Somewhere between reliving his life in fragmented segments and brief moments of clarity. This beautiful man said to me the things I have longed my entire life to hear and never will from my own dad. He told me that I was a good boy, that I was a good son and that he loved me. He kissed the back of my hand and rubbed my hand on his cheek. I know this was meant for his son whom he believed I was but it touched me none the less. I sat with him and listened to his tales until he could tell them no longer.
As I gathered my belongings to go home I felt sad and alone. I wonder if this is to be my fate. To spend my last hours with a stranger reliving my past and knowing somewhere deep inside that I am alone. I was touched so deeply by this old and frail man. I will always remember him. I hope he is at peace. I drove home with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face. I just hope I gave him as much as he gave to me.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay. Robert Frost
Knowing your mortal and feeling your own mortality are two different things for sure. I have never felt as alone as I do right now. Sitting with someone who suffers from dementia and thinks you are their son can do that to you. Watching helplessly as the life escapes those pale blue eyes. Childlike eyes faded from the years, his mind faded from Alzheimer's. I will never forget the kindness in his eyes, and in his words. Words meant for his son but delivered to me. This old dying man gave me the most precious gift. I know it was meant for someone else but he gave it to me. I held his hand in the early hours of the morning. Somewhere between reliving his life in fragmented segments and brief moments of clarity. This beautiful man said to me the things I have longed my entire life to hear and never will from my own dad. He told me that I was a good boy, that I was a good son and that he loved me. He kissed the back of my hand and rubbed my hand on his cheek. I know this was meant for his son whom he believed I was but it touched me none the less. I sat with him and listened to his tales until he could tell them no longer.
As I gathered my belongings to go home I felt sad and alone. I wonder if this is to be my fate. To spend my last hours with a stranger reliving my past and knowing somewhere deep inside that I am alone. I was touched so deeply by this old and frail man. I will always remember him. I hope he is at peace. I drove home with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face. I just hope I gave him as much as he gave to me.