Alzheimer's As A Second Language

Below is a poem from Evan Collins who lost his grandpa to Alzheimer’s disease. He wrote the poem when he was 11. The family recently participated in Walk to End Alzheimer's in memory of Don Wendorff, Sr.

Thank you to Evan and his aunt Diane Wendorff for sharing with us. :)

Grandpa

I don’t remember my grandpa without his disease,
always confusion in his eyes.
Never knew him for the man he really was,
though people tell me he was funny.
all those heartfelt memories
that he can no longer reminisce.
His last Easter,
all he did was pray,
instead of talking with the family that used to be.
Last thing I ever heard him say was,
“Who are you?” and “Why are you in my bedroom?”
We took hours of mourning,
while he lay helplessly on his death-bed.
Still conscious, he yelled in his head,
battling between life and death.
His last hours were taken in silence,
maybe because he didn’t know the people
in his room, not even his wife.
It was hard for me to see him in pain,
for his body forgot how to eat and breathe.
I don’t remember my grandpa without his disease,
Always confusion in his eyes.
Though I’m unaware of his kindness and humor,
I will still love him for who I knew him as:
My Grandpa.

~Evan Collins