There was once a lady, young and strong,
Who led a fantastic life.
Over 58 years of marriage long,
She became a different wife.
She birthed three loving offspring,
One aunt, one uncle, my dad.
Until this disease’s awful sting,
She was the best mother they’ve ever had.
Now that grandpa passed,
Grandma is on a steady decline.
Her short-term memory hardly lasts
And long-term memories are hard to find.
But that young lady still exists;
She’s hiding in labyrinths below.
Maybe if she persists,
To the lucid surface, she’ll show.
But in the light of this foreseeing,
I would certainly dread
To find that Grandma’s most radiant being
Is no longer alive, but dead.