~Dee~ | Teen Ink

~Dee~

June 9, 2014
By Kendra Lockard SILVER, Kentfield, California
Kendra Lockard SILVER, Kentfield, California
5 articles 3 photos 0 comments

when she first moved in she didn’t know who i was, confusing me with kathleen
insisting to her son that he would be a “great father” to “that girl”
advertising us to my mother (who she failed to recognize as her daughter-in-law) as “really compatible”
unable to distinguish my orientation in her distorted family tree
unaware of her function in my very existence
“hi grandma,” i protested, eager for recognition as her descendant
longing for any personal connection
to a brain deluged with dementia
80+ years of humanhood not eradicated, but consigned to oblivion
a lifetime of untended knowledge pacing from kitchen to bedroom to kitchen again
acquiescently deposited in my home
like my dog, content with food, warmth, and people
not to insolently compare her to an animal - but why is that such an insult?
it is actually quite admirable
to be able to live on a spectrum separate from satisfaction
a life where contentment can be met by fulfilled instinctual needs
a woman reverted back to her primordial state
yet i cannot decide whether this is a hollow and worthless way to live
it is in a sphere where the “modern version of hell is purposelessness”
a version of hell that i have given credence to
but why must i occupy every moment of my life with a goal
in doing so i sport an ironically vexing way to live
remember
each person is a universe, a galaxy engulfed by skin
every crevice and pore of their vitality filled with presence
a million shapes condensed into one sentient being
even though now, grandma seems so much simpler than that
bones - skin - wig - bifocals - robe - crying, “scott? nancy?”
“she must feel so unfulfilled,” i think
artificially alive
barely able to walk
but dee has served her purpose
she no longer lives on that spectrum
her pores are still filled, but with different matter
remember that this frail, confused figure raised my father
labored as a nurse in her agility
she sustains her life through a lineage of progeny and patients
i needn’t expect much from her anymore - if i ever even did
and from her, i can derive happiness from simplicity
find complacency when she says “kendra” to me
model an ingratiating grin when i reply “grandma dee”


The author's comments:
This piece is about my grandma Dee who moved in with my parents and I earlier this year after her caretaker, my aunt, was diagnosed with cancer, and also moved in with us. My grandma has dementia and has been diagnosed with breast cancer since moving in with us. I wrote this poem to make sense of my feelings on our new home situation.

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