Past Unwritten
by Edie Melson
His world once painted in vibrant colors with wide brush
strokes
Now gray and indistinct.
Memories
Kept alive through stories, discussion, remembrances
Grow dim.
Words, once a rushing river of abundance,
Now trickle through a small stream bed
Stumbling over rocks
Stuttering to a stop in stagnant pools of
Forgetfulness.
An image, once a perfect composition,
Now missing the parts that made him whole.
Awkwardly fit together,
A cruel caricature of the man he
Once was.
Time, once a ribbon unbroken from past to present to future,
Now frayed and torn,
Beyond mending, but precious for the parts
That remain.
Times past, slowly fading, disappear
Into murky shadows,
A book being unwritten
Day by day.
Glimpses of the hero he is
Shine through the dim light in his eyes
Moments of recognition,
Treasures of the past.
I know this is normally where I post my Weekend Worship. But I wrote this as I try to come to terms with the encroaching dementia of someone I love. Perhaps you've found yourself struggling with a similar situation.