this was written by RETA DERKSEN last year for her daughter who had to move back in with her in my 40s because of MS......... It’s not such a small world, after all, is it? When you were small The world was this big, magical place Waiting for you to explore, to grow up And see the world and Go and DO things And feel things And invent things to Fit the world into your eyes, Your heart, Your mind And it was like that for awhile… Until the earthquake…. That shattering of the illusions of reality When the diagnosis of MS Became more real than fiction And you began to spiral up and down Like those spinning decorative rods that People hand on their balconies to Catch the wind and Reflect the sun… And for while you laughed and danced All the while the darkness was encroaching Day to night and Nightmares came and took your spirit Piece by piece like Hades and I, being Demeter Had to let my Persephone go So you could return in the spring From the depths of Steroids and pills for pain, confusion, depression and Whatever else the medical profession saw fit to give you Until you became strong enough to dance again Though wobbly and unsteady Shaking to the beat Of a drum Only you could hear. Then you reinvented yourself And your world became smaller still Though enlarged by the Universe Of your laptop And you travel to exotic Destinations that one can find on Google maps Egypt, Dubai, Tunisia. The Middle East has many wars And the war on and in your body Is the same One never knows what to believe What is coming next? What or who will die off, be slaughtered Be killed, and we learn Compassion for others in war-torn countries But what happens in your own war-ravaged body As the cells of the myelin sheath Breathe their last breath And die away and disappear From the onslaught of the Bombs of the cells run amok Killing and destroying all in their hungry path To what end???? And now, in the safely of your bedroom You can hide away, Not so much from others, Who do wonder why you’re staggering at 10 AM Or wearing shorts in winter and It’s just too damn hard to Explain The pain, the pain, Boss the PAIN! Is excruciating when you have to Let material, like pants, bind your legs And cause so much pain, That it is just easier to stay home Where your FB friends Only see the top half of you. The make-up you carefully apply The lipstick, the eyes done up Your hair combed, curled and dyed And they all exclaim – “Doesn’t she look good!” But they don’t see How small your world has become Your room, the path to the balcony So you can have a cigarette And it is a small world, after all… And who am I to change YOUR world? To “save” you? As Jimi Hendrix said, “Im the one thats got to die when its time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to.” So as your world has shrunk From the outside And you reside in one bedroom Of a cage not of your choosing You leave the door open And your life escapes Once more To the playground in your mind And you dance And laugh And are free And I see your light shining And the wonder in your eyes And There’s a big world in there So I guess It’s not really A small world after all… Sometimes late at night I think I can hear the music of your heart And I know you are dancing And laughing And singing With the Universe Whole and complete Just whole Completely… This was written by Reta Derkson ... facebook/reta.derkson my Mother....... for Tanya Halushka McKen
Posted on: Fri, 22 Nov 2013 17:52:55 +0000
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