Alzheimer Patient’s Wife
- Alison Stone
- Jan 8
- 1 min read
A poem by Alison Stone
I am not a widow.
He breathes, he sleeps,
he eats each night at five,
reliable as a clock. I push
the food in. Like feeding our son.
Sometimes when I speak,
his face shifts. Memory?
Pleasure? That old impulse
to disagree for conflict’s sake?
When the house feels empty,
I talk louder. Stories of our courtship,
my day’s plans, the plot
of a once-loved detective show.
I shush my sister
when she talks of after,
cut the visit short.
There is no after, only endless now --
grueling, blending days
sweetened by the sound
of his snoring,
the dry coolness of his hand
as I snatch it away from flame.
Sixty years. I know
his nerve endings remember.
Hear Alison read her poem:
Alison Stone has published nine full-length collections, including Informed (NYQ Books, 2024), To See What Rises (CW Books, 2023), and Zombies at the Disco (Jacar Press, 2020), She was awarded Poetry’s Frederick Bock Prize, New York Quarterly’s Madeline Sadin Award, and The Lyric’s Lyric Prize. www.stonepoetry.org www.stonetarot.com
Image by Ahmed
Yes, even the most mundane moments are like a small victory, because the person you once knew and knew you, is still with us and experiencing peace... My 91 year old mother has an advanced stage of dementia, and I am 69 this year; therefore, she requires my complete attention on a daily basis. I wouldn't trade one moment of our interactions. I've become a defacto parent and friend to her. I feel as if I am getting to know someone else and someone different, even though she is still my mother and conversely, at times she views me as a new friend, too. She still has a few moments of recall. I can hold on to that. A…
So true. You are further along in your journey than me, but I can see "the endless now" on my horizon. Wonderful poem, Alison.
"There is no after, only endless now --" Powerful, shattering poem, Alison. Beautifully read.
This broke my heart. It's why they call it the Long Goodbye. I can't think of a better way to endure than to write. The loveliness of her prose breaks through.