Like an infant

05.28.06 (11:13 am)   [edit]
  
 



He is like an infant now
In his geriatric chair
Table up so he cannot fall,
If he tries to stand up on his own.
He does not know he cannot walk


He stills smiles when his name is called
Laughs at jokes
Loves music
Is present to those around
How much no one knows


He leans to his right
Almost over the arm rest
Nothing can be done to make him straight
When ask if he has pain
He responds he is comfortable


Eats only soft foods
Stating to have trouble taking meds
He swallows on good days
With hot oatmeal which he loves,
Soon he will not be able to do even that.


I caress his face
We talk in our own way
His eyes still shine with humor
And responds
When I say I love him and kiss him on his forehead.


He fights when we clean him
Does not know what we are doing
Takes two to do this tango
But it gets done
All happy when it is over.


He just sits
Quiet unless addressed
Sometimes restless
Most of the time not
Unless he is in bed


He will be missed
His presence here long
Seven years
Swiftly pasted
With a shorter future every day


We each for a short time
Shine our light on those around us
Some lights are brighter than others
Some more loving
Edmund is one of those.

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