We are grateful to a subscriber of the Anna Chaplaincy newsletter in Cheltenham who brought this poem by Norman MacNamara to our attention. It is reproduced with Norman’s kind permission.

 

When I wander
don’t tell me to come and sit down.
Wander with me.
It may be because I am hungry, thirsty, need the toilet.
Or maybe I just need to stretch my legs.

​

When I call for my mother
(even though I’m ninety!)
don’t tell me she has died.
Reassure me, cuddle me, ask me about her.
It may be that I am looking for the security
that my mother once gave me. 

​

When I shout out
please don’t ask me to be quiet…or walk by.
I am trying to tell you something,
but have difficulty in telling you what.
Be patient. Try to find out.
I may be in pain. 

​

When I become agitated or appear angry,
please don’t reach for the drugs first.
I am trying to tell you something.
It may be too hot, too bright, too noisy.
Or maybe it’s because I miss my loved ones.
Try to find out first. 

​

When I don’t eat my dinner or drink my tea
it may be because I’ve forgotten how to.
Show me what to do, remind me.
It may be that I just need to hold my knife and fork
I may know what to do then. 

​

When I push you away
while you’re trying to help me wash or get dressed,
maybe it’s because I have forgotten what you have said.
Keep telling me what you are doing
over and over and over.
Maybe others will think
you’re the one that needs the help!

​

With all my thoughts and maybes,
perhaps it will be you
who reaches my thoughts,
understands my fears,
and will make me feel safe.
Maybe it will be you
who I need to thank.
If only I knew how.

​

Norman McNamara