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Poem about Mona

Pat Lalonde


A tribute to Mona Lalonde


My Grandma doesn’t bake or sew,
She never liked to knit
Playing cards and dancing,
those were her favorites.

Anything to make you laugh
was what she tried to do.
Telling jokes and stories
and of course a prank or two.

If you needed help she’d help you,
always there to lend a hand
Smart kind and beautiful,
a woman in demand.

She lived alone in Toronto
and walked everywhere she went.
To shop, bank and visit
Her energy was never spent.

But then one day when I was three
We called to say goodnight
My mom drove down to get her,
She knew she wasn’t right.

She landed in the hospital
She stayed a week or so
And when they finally sent her home
She wasn’t the grandma I used to know.

Now when I go visit her
I bring her treats and tea,
I give her hugs and kisses
But she doesn’t remember me.

Although she is 87
She says she is 35,
She thinks that I’m my mother
And that Elvis is alive!

She no longer reads the paper
Or watches baseball on TV
Cannot recall the seasons
But smiles when she sees me.

It has never hurt my feelings
That she no longer knows my name
She doesn’t forget on purpose
Its Alzheimer's that’s to blame.

© Pat Lalonde


Last Updated: 12/01/15
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