A Real Dirty Post


HPIM0251If I am content then why oh why

Is everything I am doing for him

Eating me just under my skin

Forcing me to keep my eye lids dry.

The whole weekend long

He cried and cried

No matter what I tried

He is still wishing he would die.

I know I can’t give him what he used to do

It is only me and he takes the work of two

I realize his Day Program lights his life

But here at home it’s nothing but strife.

When he needed to go the number 2

I gave him his time to do the do

But when I went back to check on him

My face turned sour and I felt so grim.

He had decided to help himself

The evidence was clear from the towel on the shelf

Mess was on his skin and clothes

I felt like I needed to use the power hose.

I talked to him about how this ain’t cool

The germs he can pick up, a nasty tool

Of course he cried and I shut up

I cleaned him up and tears filled my cup.

I love my brother but I hate this disease

I can’t take it out on him even though I please

It isn’t his fault that his days are not

The way he remembers is all he’s got.

A sister, a caregiver is who I am

Doing what I need to do for him

So why am I kicking my butt all around

Causing myself grief, landing on the ground.

I pray for this to go a way

I can’t afford to feel this for today

I have no choice but to go to God

For I am not perfect, I am greatly flawed.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

08/04/2013

20 thoughts on “A Real Dirty Post

  1. don’t despair, at times of great changes, we are sometimes given boot camp, a test of faith if that is what you call it, cause no one can afford to mess once inside. my weekend was potentially the worst if all was to be believed, but i came around to calm, didn’t loose the head, was patient beyond my own ability, guess that’s the day job, wish you well.

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    • you write very smart words my friend. So far I have remained calm while Al has continued to cry. He is trying to nap now but complaining of chest pains. All I can do at this point is keep an eye on him, pray, and hope for a new day

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    • I usually think I do all I can do, but today I can not change the tears for smiles. It was the same yesterday, so once again I hope for a tomorrow. hugs my friend

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  2. Oh Terry, I really feel for you! It feels so pathetic, of me, to say, hang in there, when I know you are doing that, and so much more. If this is a test from on high, which I am sure it is, then you are definitely acing it. Your final reward will be well worth the sacrifice.

    You have won the “Sister of the Year” award, hands down!

    Great poem, btw!

    ~Cliffy

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    • oh Cliff, I have tried my hardest to keep upbeat this weekend but I have to admit I can’t wait until tomorrow to see a new sun rising. thank u so much for being a good friend of mine. hugs

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    • I do feel better, I admit, but Al is still sort of sad. He was crying this morning and the Hospice nurse happened to be there. I know that his pain medications were increased to more often per day as needed

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  3. Terry, it’s easier to deal with anger than sadness. When you’re angry, you feel more productive and less victimized. Let’s face it — Al isn’t the only victim of his disease. Chin up. Love, Sandy

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    • When I sit here and ponder on your words, i guess you are right. Anger is easier to deal with. I keep plugging a way and hoping for good days. thanks so much Sandy

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