Then and Now How You Fade Away How what you always feared Always prepared us for Now It's coming true I didn't believe you It was too hard to believe you Difficult to change Habits hard to restrain A back and fourth During visiting hours Trying to picture you In ways I used to Before the orange spray paint Before the bed frame Now accepting the ways In which I have to care for you Only a few pieces left To fill this Jigsaw The image of a stormy bay Your life almost defined In full details Beginning, tragedy and end There's a few lighthouses In the distance I think that's where we all fit in A rusty anchor On the shoreline Our lack of function No rewind The sudden rush Before the long wait Before your final breath Completes the landscape Now we all have something to hang on our walls But all it says is, we have lost.

Built my mothers death bed today one of those ones that just needs an allen key took a couple of hours and had 2 cups of tea during it was warm for mid-October The package was bought from Amazon which I silently grudge even though I know any arguments I make have little sense in the grand scheme of things - it arrived a little earlier than expected, much like her diagnosis. She's staying in the compound were everyone else is at least 20 years older than her, it freaks her out, on Tuesdays they do bingo. She could of easily stayed with me or my sister but she didn't want us to be there when she leaves so she got this place from the council, think being the 1st to discover her own mother made her mind up about that. There was a really fiddly screw bit in the middle of the frame designed for someone with much smaller fingers than I have or anyone has for that matter but otherwise it was a straightforward build and I didn't show any frustration with following the instructions as any emotion sets my mother off. I yawn and she thinks I shattered. I sigh and she thinks I'm depressed. Her short term memory is awful because of her medication, she often forgets her alarms gone off which tells her to make her painkillers and struggles worrying shes going to overdose or go without the meds she needs to float away from the pain Watching someone go from running marathons.to being bedridden and frail. writhing in pain then recovering beyond the expectations of the lovely nurses who cared for her but still drained from energy and walking with a stick has been conflicting. On one hand it means it wont be over too soon, there's still memory's to be made but on the other does mean continued suffering- a slow deterioration receding back to how she was before treatment knowing that we will re-live her worst moments until we eventually get to her worst. How she can watch me build this bed cheerfully now knowing whats ahead is bravery beyond me. most people don't know how they'll go so it doesn't feel real for them whereas my mother knows exactly how it will happen, even where she would like it to happen. I fasten the final screws like nails to a coffin. I guess that's it for today. She's relieved to get some rest despitme mostly watching me and walking from room to room talking loudly to herself- a habit I know now for certain I've inherited. Tomorrow we go shopping for curtains.

It's strange this one thing that comforts me No one did this to us, no one did this to me there's no revenge to make no enemies to shake it just is and I can be at peace with that despite you being so young to go forever battling the throws of depression your mothers death and sisters tragic end then to my father walking out of the family all you had left in common was secret mountains of debt and maybe that's prepared me to cope with your death as the idea of family died years ago you stopped being my mother more like a person I know too well all the family ties have changed they may still look the same the love remains but the ends have frayed and the shine has washed off the meanings have all been replaced with coping mechanisms the structured turning of phrases the overbearing background pressing against your painted smile the same one for every bad card delt I can see cracking now with the pain You were a tragedy You were a masterpiece I will think of you In caithness summer breeze Against my cheek Brushing through my hair Just a soft reminder that you're always there We'll all die to find we're all too late We'll all die what gives it has to take We'll all die our body's start to break When we die we get set free from the weight

I see the orange spots on trees The effects they have on me Like a corpse cosplaying the living waiting to be taken away How monklands hospital treated your case They didn't see an active independent woman They never knew you loved Arts and ran marathons They saw you as an expense best to mark already dead Orange spray paint stained on your forehead The longer you live now that you're ill the more it costs to them so they made up thier minds before you even knew that you were losing time. They made you terminal they slept through every stage and we'd be made out to be criminals if we tried to make them pay. Dr Anderson I hope one day you sneer at the wrong family's mum a family braver than me. I hope you're the one and i quote "taking up a bed" and although you know the treatment the doctors ignore you with a tilt of the head I hope you Live in pain and limbo for eternity forever ignored pleas Zero dignity As that hourglass sand continues to pass I often think of the cliche life advice to live every day like it's your last. Here she is living her final moments In the same way she did every other day. In this case is she completely ignoring this advice as it assumes we all want to go sky dive and swim with sharks travel the world go experience extremes all at once but actually, within the comforts of her four walls drinking tea watching TV and exploring arts is her choice all along for her now knowing these days are her last within perspective shes been following this advice all along. And I respect it She doesn't need to worry for the moments she'll miss an empty top table seat her room close by the bridal suite those hopes have gone and we take it just a day at a time. She thought she was certain to die at any moment a few days past and we scrambled over to see her just for the doctor to say she's got time yet. Yet again, orange gleaming from her cheeks she surpasses what the doctors believe. Faded orange somehow She knew that day was the last time she would see us awake, I listened to the doctors over her and that is my mistake I remember her tearing up and waving goodbye as I left the room blind to the final straw about to make the break. In disbelief to the reality that time only takes

I'm trying to remember how I felt when I was well, the choices I wanted to make and how strange it is to recognise that I was actually well once, briefly after the lockdown lifted the refresh and gained perspective I thought at the time these are just the choices you make when you get older but now I know I made them in stability with my head above the clouds. I'm trying to remember and imitate that person hoping this will trick me back to clarity Into a brighter reality but even now I'm sipping water wishing it was beer wishing it was a hip flask in my pocket instead of cream for eyes dried up the curse of springtime comes as clockwork and its strange to me how I've shed more tears for hay-fever than the recent dead I'm guessing that's a wall I haven't hit yet. The only place I know to look is In the bottom of bottles and my body's screaming for me to act on the doubles so I cling to an image of when I was better having conquered the disastrous past. And now after 20 years my excema is back I guess without knowing I'm holding a lot in and this is how it has to come out through the skin blistering with words kept within Feels like all excuses are wearing thin covering me just enough to brace against the wind to shelter me from comments made by those out on a limb No one has a solid base An image which to form their face Just Rehearsed reactions Token supportive actions Well meant but mostly distractions Well i need Less escapism, more extraction There such things that go unnoticed An item out of place within a fridge How much milk your putting in The light on in the middle of the day The body's slow decay A tiny switch clicked in the brain But nothing immediate changed At least that's how it seemed And now I fear I've had this dictating over me For months now I would never have known if not for a glorious sunset, the kind that lifts and makes day I stared at it emotionless, I caught myself This sunset made It dawn on me that I've been racing through life numb The skin now so thick from past that it didn't even hit me. My protective machine mind has been working me for months and I haven't watched one sunrise or sunset, wrote anything down instead the creative expression converts to aging on my face it's clear now that my favourite beer is missing from the fridge because I haven't bothered to buy it, machines don't taste, machine don't waste on frivolity. Machines don't tire, don't stop to appreciate beauty. I'm forcing down the water I'm taking scenic routes Trying to remember healthy parts of me that liked to read books Trying to give myself a minute Take a breath to clear my head Surrounding it with nature Put the machine mind to bed Trying to control my sense of being Trying to find a better me My nature is a wrecking ball I'm trying not to set it free