Over this campaign I have met many peolpe facing the same struggles as my wee mum and I. Please see below a poem sent to me Last night by a carer
I am lost inside his head,
Struggling to emerge.
He wants to know
Who I am
But can’t quite grasp me.
‘Who are you anyway?’ he asks
Directly and simply,
No side - just wants a straight answer.
I reply, ‘Your wife’
And he accepts that
For the time being,
But minutes later it's,
Are we related?’
And I know the answer -
‘No, I’m your wife,’ and give my name.
Only then does he cuddle me.
It’s allowed.
The poignancy, when he says,
‘I love you
And don’t you forget it,’
Is lost on him.
‘I’m lost,’ he weeps.
‘Who am I?’
‘I can’t find my family!’
‘Where am I?’
And my heart breaks
Because of the impenetrable walls
That surround him,
And all I can do
Is give him a hug
And try to reassure him.
We are lost
In this island that is our house.
The world around does not reach us.
People do not search.
Doctors and social workers assume that
I - we - are coping
And so we are, I suppose,
But really we are lost.
I am lost inside his head
And now I know
That I will never be found
For keeps . . .
And all I want is for him to know me . . .
Roslyn Fraser
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