Dottled and Thrawn…

Dottled and Thrawn...

A million loving moments fill my head
Remembering my dad from childhood years,
But facing new realities instead
His failing fragile mind prompts blurring tears.

As vascular dementia takes its toll
Forgetful blank confusion plays cruel tricks,
Bewildered absence taunts his stubborn soul
And thrawn and dottled's not an easy mix!

Each tiny blockage works to undermine 
The crumbling bedrock of his memory,
His world's diminished, harder to define
Frustrating future beckons senselessly...

And once the day has come when no "Dad"s left
We'll simply go on loving, quite bereft...

PS For the non-Scots speakers of you out there, “Dottled” means in a state of dotage and “Thrawn” means stubborn… 🙂

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