Who will I be when you're gone, Mom?
I am not who I was before this journey
I will not be who I am now
I will not be a daughter
I will not be a caregiver
I will be bereft of purpose.
Useless before, I will be useless again
I will be
I crave freedom from the Grim Reaper's daily company
I build castles in the sky of all the things I will do when death, your death, has freed me From these chains that shackle me to you
And yet as the journey is coming to a close I grip the chains in terror
Seek to bind them tighter
Fear the abyss of myself, without you, filled with
When this home becomes just a house
Stripped naked of your spirit.
Desolate of your warmth, rage, laughter, fear
Before dementia and after
My heart will break from the same abandonment
The emptiness of you
The vast darkness