As My Vision Fades ImproVerse Sonnet

As I age,
My vision fades.
Yet I’m sure
I’m seeing more.

The same sun shines North and South: Lake Winneconne SunsetMy experience fills in
views I’m seeing again.
And colors even more
scenes I’ve not seen before.

It’s frustrating to me,
this hazed fogginess I see;
but my sight was always poor,
so I accept the gaps and endure.

For even blurred pictures I now have at hand
Time lets me more clearly see and understand.

 

Accepting Old People Where They Are: Revolutionary Prose

A Facebook friend posted this thought: “You don’t need to “orient” the elderly, even if they have dementia. Spend time with them where they are at … even if it’s 1959. Ask them about what they do remember.” To which I responded:
“When my grandmother was going through that phase, where she couldn’t remember things even a few minutes after they happened, I had this thought: Old people get to that phase so they can pass their knowledge and wisdom and stories from long long ago onto to the next generation. She could remember the name of her four-year-old best friend, but she couldn’t remember what she had for breakfast that morning. So I asked her about her four-year-old neighbor and her childhood and the first time she saw an airplane. I learned how to fillet a fish. I played endless hours of cribbage and listened to stories and got to ask questions and watch her face light up as she remembered things she hadn’t thought of in decades. I spent months going through the years of 1920 to 1990 with her, looking at old photo albums, making video and audio recordings. She talked about those memories and photos as if the events captured had happened yesterday. Because to her, they probably had. It was an amazing experience.
As a result my children have heard and know more “Grandma stories” than my father, her eldest son. I’m grateful I took the time to listen about yesterday, instead of trying to force her into today.”