The Rocking Chair
By
Gertrude Guignard
My mother suffered from Alzheimer's till she finally found peace.
Here is something I wrote back then and never shared till now.
May we all find comfort in sharing our words.
In my mother's house there is beautiful room facing south with a picture window and a rocking chair...
She sits in her rocking chair
Looking down the white field
Hardly any black left in her hair
And hands that tremble and weave
She likes this sunny room
Full of plants and flowers
But her mind wanders and soon
She is dreaming of April showers
Still so very still is life now
For her time has stopped
She knows not what or how
A whisper, a breeze, a tear drop
She looks up as I walk in
Oh how her face awakens
Wrinkles disappear from her chin
And a lovely smile is given
As I leave she seems undisturbed
She turns back to stare at the snow
Not knowing when I will return
Although it will be the same time tomorrow
She sits in her rocking chair
Looking out from somewhere
And nobody else can go there.
© Gertrude Guignard 2009
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