The Homegoing by Freeda Baker Nichols

“I don’t recall this house,” she said, in tears.
“It’s where you raised us children, Mom,” Tom said.
“Your honeysuckle vine is over there.”
He pointed to the corner of the yard,
where blossoms red clung to a green-leafed vine.
She shook her head. “I never saw this house.”Honeysuckle 003
“The old gum tree’s where Billy broke his arm,”
Tom said, “when he fell from the highest limb.
The pies you baked you cooled upon that shelf
and Daddy liked egg custard best of all.
I liked the chocolate–don’t you recall?”
No matter how he tried, she did not seem
to recognize one memory of home.
Her babies all were born in that big bed;
the drapery at the window, she had made.
Her husband built the table out of oak; that’s
where the children bowed their heads for grace.
But not a hint of recognition sparked
her eyes while she walked slowly through the rooms.
Tom took her hand and gently led her out
the door, across the yard and to the car.
He drove the miles in silence to the Home
where she now lives with other residents.
He left her sitting in her easy chair.
There is one thing that he is certain of:
she’ll know her home in Heaven when she goes.

© Copyright Freeda Baker Nichols

14 comments on “The Homegoing by Freeda Baker Nichols

  1. Tammy says:

    Mom, you really re-created the devastation of this sad experience. : ( An example of the power of the written word!

    Like

  2. So sad. Everyone has been touched by this disease.

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  3. Touching and similar to our experience with Terry’s mom. I agree. They know their names and much more now.

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  4. very sad indeed…
    sometimes I feel for the caregivers more than the one with it…

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  5. Martha Heckman says:

    Bob’s mom suffered with this disease. It broke my heart the day she didn’t recognize him, her only child….

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  6. Ginger Kemp Pruett says:

    I really don’t know what to comment other than this is such a heart breaking illness that so many have. They struggle to remember things but just cannot.

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    • Yes, that’s true. Alzheimer’s is a heartbreaking disease. My mother-in-law had it. She died in 1996 at the age of 89. This poem is based on our experience in taking care of her. This poem has been published in our local paper.

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      • Ginger Kemp Pruett says:

        Some day it would be nice if you put all of your poems into one book to be published. I like so many I quit trying to pick a favorite……todays though is going to be a favorite it hits home and says it all where Alzheimer’s is concerned

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