We come into life with laughter and song,
Building our memories, year after long.
But dementia arrives, so cruel, so unfair,
Stealing the moments we once used to share.
My mum that I knew is fading away,
Her memories stolen more each day.
She calls me “mum,” her husband “dad,”
A childlike world, both tender and sad.
Her baby doll brings comfort at night,
Her favourite song still brings her light,
“She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain” —
she sings with cheer and glowing warmth.
She smiles and kisses, she reaches for me,
Her words are broken, but her love I see.
Trapped inside where she cannot be heard,
An unknown world without a word.
And sometimes a truth will pierce the air,
She whispers in pain what’s too much to bear:
“I know there is something so wrong with me —
I wish I was gone, I wish I was free.”
No one can know how heavy it feels,
This cruel disease that time conceals.
Yet I hold to hope, and I hold her hand,
In this unknown world, we try to stand.