Sometimes, when I visit the Mansion, Joan is on the other side of the glass looking out. We wave to each other, and we talk to each other through the window. She seems to love these conversations, we can’t really hear each other so we make funny faces at each other and laugh. By the time I get inside, she has forgotten.
But she never forgets to play the game.
I wrote a poem for Joan which I will take to the Mansion and read to her, perhaps later today.
Dear Joan,
God has invited you to a party,
and you said yes,
everyone who comes will be my special guest.
and i asked her,
what will you say to them when they arrive,
and she replied,
welcome, welcome,
everyone I know is on this
jeweled dance floor
and I will ask them,
why not? why not?
Why not dance and sing?
Me, April 24
Absolutely love that photo, it works on so many levels, besides standing on its own as a beautiful piece of art.
This post touched me deeply, as Joan always does. Thank you.
Your photograph of Joanie through the Looking Glass brought a tear to my eye. It emulates the brain losing it transparency as it succumbs to Alzheimer’s. As I am starting to see that with a loved one, this is a special photo. One of your best, from the heart.