I Didn’t Mean It




Someone suggested to me, that I write about my experiences of the personal struggles, when faced with being a full time carer, dealing with my Father's illness regarding Vascular dementia. There were good days, bad days and ugly days. This was a very unpleasant end stage Vascular dementia for both my Father, myself and Family. I like to write the truth in my own way and this reflects my regrets through poetry.

I didn’t mean it when I lost my patience Dad.
It really wasn’t your fault.
I didn’t mean it when resentment kicked in.
Unkind words, a temporary outburst.
I didn’t mean it when I said “nothing is bigger than me.”
I lied.
I didn’t mean it when I took away your freedom
to protect your vulnerability.
I lost my freedom too.
I didn’t mean it when my anger took me to places
I would rather not be.
I didn’t mean it when your rock crumbled
and I too became lost.
I didn’t mean it when I wished for it all to end.
At least that way the battle is over.
If I could go back and have one moment in time.
What would I say Dad?
I didn’t mean it.
But Dad I can’t go back only forward
and I know what you would say.
I know you didn’t mean it.

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