Scrambled

Scrambled eggs?

.

Beautiful farm life

My dog, Toby was my best friend

I rode my bike everywhere

Wide open spaces

Room to explore

Freedom

Fried eggs?

.

We moved to the city.

I had to give up my dog, Toby, my best friend

I want to go home

Tiny room

Minuscule backyard

No more room to explore

No more freedom

Boiled eggs?

.

I met him at a dance

We were together through thick and thin

Mostly thin

70 years

No, this is wrong

I’m pissed

Go away

Pancakes?

.

Why am I here?

I want to go home

Scrambled thoughts

*

Author’s note:

My mom has dementia. She can tell you with clarity about her youth, but not what she ate for breakfast. We thought it would be good for her to spend time with my brothers in the Twin Cities, but she got confused and agitated. “Pissed” is the closest she’s ever gotten to a swear word.

Damned dementia.