Memory, Dementia, and Poetry: National Poetry Month

Poetry and song can reflect the blossom of youth. I'm bringing back Elizabeth Healy for today's post. If you know elderly people, this poem may resonate with you.

Don

I watched him today
during the trivia time.
He couldn't answer--
No memory for details,
But then he went to the hymn sing.
I watched him sing along,
marveling at what he knew.
Those wonderful words of life
bringing amazing grace.
He goes to the garden alone
for a sweet hour of prayer,
and Jesus walks with him
and he talks with him.
Though in his chair
still, he is standing
on the promises of God.
In spite of everything
in his heart there rings a melody.

                   ~Elizabeth Healy

When my mom was in a nursing home, many residents with memory loss sang along to every word at hymn sings or sang along with entertainers who sang "the old songs." What is learned early seems to stick. That gives us ways to connect with people who find difficulty in remembering the now. It also gives them peace and comfort, as they remember their faith and their true, younger selves.

I'd like to call attention to Mind's Eye Poetry, which has the mission of using poetry as dementia therapy. Founder Molly Middleton Meyer says, "Through the use of poetry facilitation, I help my poet/patients access memories and imagination. I turn those memories and imaginings into poems using their ideas, phrases, words, and even non-verbal cues." See sample poems here.

Have you used poetry in this way? How does poetry comfort you? Please leave a comment below.

Baseball's Opening Week! National Poetry Month

Batter up! It's baseball's opening week at ball parks across the U.S. Whether or not you are a fan, you recognize this harbinger of spring. For most of us fans, it's a time for hope that this year, our team will do better. Our local newspaper this morning proclaims "New era finally dawns for 2017 Twins," and fans will turn out to see if it is so.

 And yes, baseball is poetry, too. I'd like to introduce you to poet Elizabeth Healy, who has granted permission for me to use her poem here. Liz is, among other things, a caregiver and one of a large family of die-hard baseball fans. Here's how she would like to experience the game:

WITH MY EYES CLOSED

by Elizabeth Healy

I want to use my other senses first
Hear the vendors calling us to slake our thirst
and the home plate umpire being roundly cursed

I want to smell the grass as sweet as heather
The sweat of fans enjoying the hot weather
and the intoxicating scent of an old mitt's leather

I want to taste ballpark fare and sup
on hotdogs slathered in mustard and ketchup
and drink a cold beverage from a paper cup

I want to feel the crunch of peanut shells beneath my feet,
to squeeze myself into the plastic seat
and enjoy the too short season of sizzling summer heat

I want to see the sky a periwinkle blue
the shamrock green outfield grass--such a peaceful hue
and the white of home a place for every heart that's true

I want to embrace the game with all my senses
to leave behind all worries and pretenses
in the magic place that's found between the fences.

Thanks, Liz! This and other poems are found in Liz's book and so he calls, available here.

Take us out to the ball game, and remember to comment on the previous post for a chance to win one of Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell's books!