Memo...she will be home soon

Gently alone in himself he writes

He sits 

Near the fireplace no one can see him

Yet his shadow dances to a natural rhythm in his loneliness ....with the flickering lights from the fire place

He writes with warmth and memories of only one. Or so it seems

He has no pen or paper but a knife and a plate from his last supper Now  his plastic toys... for his dementia. ....in and out his short memory since his wife passed 

He 

Sometimes   talks of his loving wife  Dee who he calls his Brandy..

He would tell about his wedding day when he kissed her....she tasted like "brandy"..so he called her Brandy ever since...he smiles

But now old and lost he writes of scribbles about his wife and days

And tell the same story daily about his loving Dee....who has gone shopping.....

"She will be home soon you know"...

Dementia kicks in...