“I want to go to the house of God.”
Words of my Mom when she is lucid.
I pray for God’s mercy to take her.
But I watch her torment continue.
Each day it gets harder for me.
I don’t know if I’ll meet a stranger.
Or a little of the mother I know.
Then again, she has forgotten me.
She has invisible friends.
And is afraid of them, maybe.
They hover behind me, always.
Her eyes darting that way.
Her dementia overtaking reality.
Into the past and hallucinating.
My mother told me I was dead.
Her invisible friends said so.
I try to calm my mother down.
Telling her I’m here. I’m here!
She looks beyond me, afraid.
Shakes her head. I’m dead.
I wallow in self-pity for a moment.
Then, I pray to God. I try to.
Yet, not knowing for what.
I am as lost as my Mom.
It gets harder to be with her.
She’s become more of a stranger.
Then, I get to see a glimpse of her.
That silver lining in the cloud.
By C.E. Pereira
(18-12-2019)
HoneyGwhiz 
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