the lost/unfound of words

my mother started losing words/about four years before she died

“where is that…silver thiing?” she asked me/as i brought her sandwich/and salad with little jars/of extra virgin olive oil/and red wine vinegar/and exactly six lemon slices

by “silver thiing” she meant the tv remote/with which she accessed/her beloved “the price is right”/with host drew carey

she seemed to find her way/to and up the autistic spectrum/as she lost words and then concepts

and her pain was increasingly constant/and intolerable/yet it was still possible to draw laughter from her/till not long before she was gone

.

my older brother has begun to lose words

I have regarded him as my canary in a coal mine/and so this latest turn of life dismays

“i got this…thiing” he says

long pause

“dementia?”

“no not that…what’s the…other one?”

“alzheimer’s?”

“yeah that’s it”

.

i can’t find a word for how i feel

but a symbol will do

😦