Excerpt for Gloriously Us - A Celebration of Memories Lost and Found by Gloriously Us, available in its entirety at Smashwords

GLORIOUSLY US

Smashwords Edition | © 2011 Gloriously Us

All rights reserved. No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any form other than that in which it was purchased and without the written permission of Gloriously Us. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

www.gloriouslyus.wordpress.com

About Gloriously Us

Gloriously Us is a project entirely run by volunteers and supported by staff from the Aylesbury office of Alzheimer’s Society. Its aim is to work across Buckinghamshire, bringing the dementia community together through poetry. The dementia community includes those diagnosed with dementia, their carers and anyone else with a connection to dementia – such as careworkers, social service professionals and the medical profession. Gloriously Us has held a number of successful poetry workshops and also offers a poetry toolkit for use within the dementia community in return for a small donation.

For further information please visit: www.gloriouslyus.wordpress.com

All net proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer's Society

(Charity Number 296645)



Introduction

When I was small, my grandmother would say; “You’re nothing without your memories.” She was a tiny, wire-tough, Yorkshire woman who had known two World Wars; given birth to two sons; worked in service at a stately home; lost four siblings to the Spanish ‘flu; baked a thousand fruit cakes; made a million pots of jam and lived so many adventures over the course of her long life that to me she was a one-woman factory of stories, anecdotes, recipes and word pictures. But when she died, aged 94, those memories had become fragmented and untrustworthy. Alzheimer’s had begun to steal away what she valued most. She didn’t always recognize me, didn’t always know who she was, or why she was no longer living in her own home. Even so, she stayed tough to the end, and on her good days was still able to tell me the stories of her childhood, and to enjoy the process of reliving some of her happiest memories. Some of those stories later found their way into my books; I could think of no better way to celebrate them.

The process of remembering is strangely therapeutic. Even if the memories are incomplete or untrustworthy, our stories and recollections are how we try to define ourselves, to make sense of our lives, and we all have a deep-rooted instinct to pass them on to the next generation. This book is a moving testimony to the power of memory, and I trust that in its pages, you will find, as I did, an inspiration and a message of hope. Some things are worth remembering.

Joanne Harris

Joanne Harris is an award-winning writer whose books are published in over 40 countries. To find out more about her work, please visit: http://www.joanne-harris.co.uk

A Haiku

all of her photographs…
each face fades
into the crowd

Graham Duff




CONTENTS


To My Mother with Alzheimer’s

Poem

Warhol

Limericks

Stigma

Life

All Upside Down

Dad

Out Walking!

Rings

If I forget

To All Intents and Purposes

The Summer House

The Old Man in the Park

Daddy

Qualifications

Cornish Lines On Spoons and Such

Catching Up On Sleep

Hodgett Extinguished With A Mighty Squirt

Hodgett’s Sad Demise

All Is Not Lost

Why?

Alone

Lost

The Old Millpond

Love Is A Word

Because Of You

You

Twinkle and smile!

Love

Love’s Years

My Mum

Middle Age

Rhubarb Jam

At Rest

Poetry As Therapy

My Cat Fran

The Bubble Blower

Tom’s Visit

Straight From The Heart

Life In A Care Home

Sitting

Non Poem

Ode To A Care Support Worker

Alzheimer’s Prayer

Bibliography

To My Mother with Alzheimer’s


I'm holding on for both of us, as slowly you forget,
I'm memorizing pieces of the life that lingers yet.
It doesn't matter that one day you see me as your mum
And then your older Sister. It just matters I hold on.

Despite the wiping of your mind I know you'll start again
When you are in our Saviour's world where there is no more pain.
Although you ask the questions and the answers slip away
I know there are far better things to grasp that final day.

I'm holding on for both of us when we've enjoyed some time
Just going out and shopping when the weather has been fine,
And eating something tasty that has made your smile so bright,
For you will have forgotten I was even here by night.

I've wondered if it's worth it, all the work that I must do
But I believe somewhere inside it's benefiting you.
Because although you can't recall the things you did today
Perhaps you'll just feel safer or more cherished in some way.

So I am holding on despite the times I want to go
Or scream because you've asked me things a thousand times or so,
And I just want to be alone without you by my side,
But I know I'd be devastated if, alone, you died.

So hold my hand more tightly mum, for I won't go away
And I'll remember for you all the things you want to say,
And you don't have to worry about all those passing things,
The bills, the stress of living life inevitably brings.

It's all been taken care of, I can handle it for you
Despite the fact you aren't aware of anything I do,
Just like when I was little and you did the same for me,
I only want you to feel loved till Jesus sets you free,

And though you're losing who you are, and all the years long past,
It's all there waiting for you when you take God's hand at last,
And I'll stop holding on that day and let you go alone,
Because the panic will have gone, for you'll be going Home.

And next time that I see you, you will smile and know my name
And you'll hold me forever where confusion doesn't reign.


AKM

John Cameron was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s. Writing poetry was one of the few pleasures he was able to enjoy during the progress of the condition. John wrote for the pure pleasure of playing with words.

Poem


Latin for ‘out of the mind’,
‘de mentis’ might sound so unkind.
Should it make you feel weak
Or unwilling to speak
Care not, the words will unwind.

Malady as old as the hills, not bettered nor undone by pills;
You may curse out loud
And shoot round and round
The ear is all that it fills

So have body and brain gone to war?
I doubt it but I’m really not sure.
I hold on to hope, indeed hope, hold and cling,
In case Lady Fortune will come on and sing.

‘Dementia’, the letters number eight,
The amount that occurs in ‘to create’,
Tis something to hum as the

Listener goes numb,
Alice’s rabbit is late for an-
Oh-so-important date.


John Cameron

Warhol


Your fifteen minutes was wrong;
I’ve that number in month, going strong.
Everyone has a catch,
We’re from the same batch,
So I cannot indefinitely prolong.


John Cameron

Limericks


My limericks come with a warning,
Remember that when you’re yawning
Good poets would know it,
Be too polite to show it,
Unlike theirs mine don’t improve by morning.

They tend to come by impulsion,
Notwithstanding the risk of revulsion.
They come in all sizes,
As do virtues and vices,
But come with the sureness of propulsion.


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