Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver

I happened to check my book stats on Amazon today. The Kindle version of my book Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir is back on the list of best-sellers in Poetry About Death! Thank you, everyone! I’m delighted. These stats fluctuate, so I’m tickled I caught an upswing!

Having met and befriended so many wonderful authors as Editor of MasticadoresUSA, I know how much care we all put into our literary works. Writers are creators and crafters. We want nothing more but to have our words read and loved. I wish for that as well, and I hope my book is a help to others caregiving to loved ones with Alzheimer’s.

Book Premise

Her uncle asks, Do you love your mother? Can a daughter doubt her love for her mother who is navigating Alzheimer’s? Can she learn to love the stranger her mother is becoming? 

The Caregiver’s Craft

I’m only a human, Mom,
seeking perfection in my care for you.
Weaving the yarn, like you taught

and retaught. I keep forgetting
to practice. You say my head
is always in my books.

I anchor my hook
into a rhythm in each row,
putting the colors of your care in place.

Counting the stitches,
like the meter in a poem.
Casting off. Crocheting my lines.

Each stitch a thought, a memory, a discovery.
What am I crafting for you?
Comfort or chaos?

Will everything turn out?
I study the creation, 
pleased. Some rows 

proclaim symmetry,
coherence to form. I revel 
in the virtuosity, clarity of hue

as though I have hooked 
into radiance. But other rows 
meander like a stream,

wandering around the bed rocks.
Threads in some rows, weeds, 
tangled in the mud of past despair.

Memories to be forgotten.
Words that should have been
left unsaid. Plans gone awry.

Fitful dreams. Diminished hope. 
As though gripping this hook 
cripples my thinking. My loving.

Where am I heading, Mom?
Do I have it right yet?
Your care and wellbeing?

Being a doting daughter. Daunting.
I’m only a human
unraveling our knots.