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    Passages: Death, Dementia, and Everything in Between
    Passages: Death, Dementia, and Everything in Between
    Passages: Death, Dementia, and Everything in Between
    Ebook193 pages1 hour

    Passages: Death, Dementia, and Everything in Between

    By H. M. Gooden

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Life is full of surprises; 

    of laughter, love, and losses. 

    This collection explores the transitions between the highs and lows of life through poetry and prose.

    May you find the words on these pages as much a balm to guide you through rocky seas as they have been for me.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherH. M. Gooden
    Release dateApr 13, 2021
    ISBN9781989156285
    Passages: Death, Dementia, and Everything in Between
    Author

    H. M. Gooden

    H. M. Gooden has always loved the world of books, but over the last few years a new story has begged to be told, and as a result, this series was born. In between dealing with children and work, the majority of the actual writing happens between four and six am and involves multiple cups of coffee for inspiration. You can always find me on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Bookbub and Goodreads. I always love to hear from readers!

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      Book preview

      Passages - H. M. Gooden

      1

      Love and All

      The Last Date

      I’d known them for a long time.

      They were a sweet couple, with more years of love and life under their belts than most others ever have.

      They were honest people; the kind of souls whose truth shone straight from their hearts, was visible for everyone to see.

      They said what they meant, but kindly, without bite or malice. A rare quality in anyone, so finding two of a kind was like hitting a jackpot, or finding a pot of gold beneath the rainbow.

      They’d married in their teens and passed the decades together, weathering the good and bad life inevitably brings with it. After living through the hard times of raising children and farming, they had enjoyed the fruits of their efforts in the form of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. With time, they had slowly loosened the reins on the farm, and as age made their bodies frail, they gave over some of the responsibility until finally, they began to need help to make it through the days.

      That’s when I met them.

      Already on the tail end of their travels around the sun, from the first day, I was struck by the way they held each other’s hands and finished each other’s stories.

      Together over seventy years, but unlike any couple I’d seen before.

      Remember when... she’d begin.

      Heh, heh, heh. Yeah, that was a good one, he’d reply.

      I never heard the details of the actual story when they spoke in tandem like that, but it was clear to me they communicated on a level beyond any couple I’d known.

      I did my small part to keep them together a little longer.

      I adjusted a few things here and there with medication for comfort, but I was extraneous, and I knew it. They’d already been blessed with long lives, either due to amazing genetics or more, as I suspected, due to the power of the love they had shared for so long.

      But one day, she began to eat a little less.

      We did all the usual medical things. I consulted a dietician, who encouraged high calorie foods. The nurses told family to bring in favourite snacks and treats, but none of the usual tricks worked to rouse her appetite, and her bloodwork was all normal.

      Nothing to fix.

      I’m not hungry, because I’m old, she’d say, scolding us as if everyone should know better and just leave her in peace.

      I watched as she began to falter.

      Gradually at first, her activity and energy levels declining slowly.

      And I watched as his heart broke, a little more every day she weakened.

      Can’t you do something doctor? She won’t eat!

      I’m sorry, I said. Sometimes our appetite fails as we age. She’s over a hundred, and her body is saying it isn’t hungry. Try to encourage her, as much as you can.

      So, every day for over a month, he tried.

      Until the day he accepted her wishes, and began to protect her by pushing the food away when others insisted.

      One day, he grew so sick from heartbreak that he ended up in the hospital, and she became the one who was worried. She fretted, asking every day for his return until finally, he returned.

      Palliative, they said.

      We knew the moment we heard the word. I will never forget how I sat in the charting room with their nurse. We cried, hugging each other, not ready for the inevitable.

      Our sweet couple!

      We’d known they couldn’t, wouldn’t live without the other, but we weren’t ready to lose either one. It wasn’t enough time. But it wasn’t up to us, so we did what we always do.

      Wiping our faces and putting on a smile, we began to make the required arrangements. Procuring hospital beds, we bent rules and moved them into one room.

      For the first time in years, they slept side by side.

      Surrounded by family and close friends, they held hands for days.

      Through our tears we laughed with family, marvelling at the wonderful life they’d shared, watching as the pain and ravages of age smoothed out, to be replaced once more by the glow of one last date.

      Hospitality

      She was always there,

      behind the scenes,

      only a hug or phone call away.

      Available twenty-four hours a day,

      with a shoulder or an ear,

      no matter how old her baby grew.

      A job that lasts a lifetime;

      cooking, cleaning, driving, counselling,

      loving.

      No expiry date,

      no retirement package.

      Soft moments at night,

      a kiss on the forehead,

      stories by lamp light,

      sweet dreams, little one.

      Silent Heart

      He stands alone,

      quiet and self-effacing,

      letting others shine.

      Watching from the sidelines while others bask in the spotlight.

      Content merely knowing he helped.

      Brilliant, caring, and kind.

      He is everyone standing behind the curtain.

      Toiling without expectation of acknowledgement

      to keep the boat from capsizing,

      righting it when it lurches.

      He goes about his day,

      father, friend, lover, son.

      The quiet soul

      who walks beside us,

      feeling deeply.

      Telling the world the story of their love

      with deeds,

      not words.

      Hands competently shaping the world

      into something more beautiful

      with each and every act of devotion.

      Motherhood

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