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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Family · #594431
I turned to go into my sister's room -

THE NURSING HOME
(An Empty Bed)

Several years ago, it was necessary
For my sister to go to a nursing home
To live out her days, with Alzheimers.
She could not be left alone.

No more locks on the door at home,
No more would she walk out into the wood
Become confused and lost, while we
Searched for her, best as we could.

In the nursing home, she would get care
That we could no longer provide;
Her husband had suffered a heart attack,
Her youngest daughter was there by his side.

It was the beginning of the end
For although she got the best of care,
It would never be the same again
That home - without her there.

Her children came to visit her,
Her husband came to feed her everyday;
He proved that his love was strong
And would see them through that way.

I often went, in the beginning,
To see her and try to help with care,
Then somehow, life got harder and
I wasn't always there.

I was battling with my own demons,
Just trying to survive -
I guess I thought she'd always be
There and still alive.

She didn't remember me,
But she would smile when I came in;
Sometimes she'd try to talk
Not remembering where she'd been.

I used to like to help her up,
And walk with her down the hall
To the lobby where we'd sit
Watch the tv and, as I recall

She'd lay her head on my shoulder
And seemed quite like a child,
This woman who had been a teacher,
So good and sweet and mild.

One morning as I ventured in
To visit one more time;
I saw a change upon her face
As blank eyes looked into mine.

Now I've known death and I've known pain,
But still it did not prepare
Me for the day I walked in and
Found an empty bed in there.

How do we cope with lonliness?
How do we cope with sorrow?
How do we just keep going on
When there is no tomorrow?

I don't go to the nursing home;
No more I enter through its door.
She left a long, long time ago
And doesn't need me anymore.

Note:
My sister is still living,
In a world that's all her own;
She's there until the angels
Come and call her home.

Now it may seem callous
For me to stay away -
But I'm battling my own demons,
And they will not go away.

I'm facing death in my own way
As my aged hands will tell;
Maybe I just can't take it -
Another death, I know it well.

Five brothers, and two sisters
Have already gone before -
Is it fair that I should watch
Another sister go through the door?

One day I will go back again
When I get over all the dread
Of walking into the nursing home
And finding - an empty bed.

Dedicated to my sister Alma June,
This 26th day of December;
I may not always be there for you -
But I always will - remember.

Love, Julie






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