Hobnobbing with the Philosophers: The Long Goodbye

Detail from “The School of Athens”
a fresco by Raphael (1483 – 1520)
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By Maik Strosahl

It is estimated that 5.8 million Americans suffer through some sort of dementia. Safe to say, that leads to at least 5.8 million caregivers to watch as the tragedy unfolds, moments evaporating, entire lives rising into a cloud their loved one cannot see through. It is often called the long goodbye.
    Thank you to my friend Theresa Timmons for editing suggestions!

The Long Goodbye

Today
he remembered over breakfast,
told me a story
of standing in the chapel,
watching
the most beautiful bride approach,
her father a blur on her arm,
family and friends somehow
praying at a distant pew,
her eyes staring back through him,
her smile never so wide.

He knew,
without doubt,
he actually loved her,
more than just saying so,
as he had done before with others,
as he had even
spoken shallow with her before,
and he lost himself
in the depth,
in the swirling currents
overwhelming his heart
until his eyes
could not hold back
and the dam failed,
tears streaming down his face,
watching her’s reflecting,
joining him finally
at the altar for
a good cry together.

Today,
he remembers.
It is a good day.

Yes, John,
I remember too.
I was holding your hands,
crying with you,
the two of us alone
in that crowded cathedral,

but he just stares off,
smiling,
thoughts lost in the distance,
looking back occasionally
as his fingers grasp at
the cloud of another detail

and he doesn’t seem
to have a clue
that I keep chasing
through his fog
just to find him again
in this moment
in a small clearing,
to grab hold of those hands
and share another cry.

Copyright © 2022 by Maik Strosahl Michael E. Strosahl has focused on poetry for over twenty years, during which time he served a term as President of the Poetry Society of Indiana. He relocated to Jefferson City, Missouri, in 2018 and currently co-hosts a writers group there.