A New Poem

This poem doesn’t seem to be about cancer or caregiving, but for many years I have helped my mother take care of my father. It’s been difficult because the past was always been there whether or not I wanted it to be. Just the same I did my best to be a good daughter to him and in a strange way-even without ever apologizing for the past-I felt a sense of healing.

Lingering Bruise (Villanelle)

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This entry was posted in Abuse, Caregiving, Dementia, Survival and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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