ALS - Our Stories - "Bring your authentic self!"
Create a new post based on the prompt: Write a letter to someone and tell them what you cannot tell them face to face - or wish that you had told them. The length is up to you.
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Relegated to a feeding tube
Flavourless and bland
My thoughts drift to my mother's food
Made by her Armenian hands
Rice, meat and spices enveloped in green grape vine leaves
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0ne pound of hamburger
To be browned.
And sweet Italian sausage
Add another pound.
Dice up an onion.
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Grief is …
stopping by the watermelons,
unable to pick one up.
You taught me
to listen for the hollow sound,
to know when it’s ripe.
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If you were here
you would be annoyed
that the toothpaste cap is covered in gunk
I know it drove you crazy
but I always thought it was funny
Now it’s oozing everywhere
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**(This poem is dedicated to all affected by ALS and FTD)
Whispers collide, remnants of me
I catch glimpses, memories
Echoes of my life, an angry haze
Broken body, fractured mind
Forgotten, all I am and was
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I wrote this...
Moms, Stubborn and Defiant Child!
B.R.T. 5*11*2026
I have my moments of dread, don't you doubt it.
ALS likes to poke me over and over again, saying;
I'm going to take your life, every piece, bit by bit.
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ALS,
You are not a “dear.” You can’t read. You pass through this world like an idiot, knocking down everything in your path. I said, “Why me?” but when I meet others with ALS, I think “Why them?” I don’t blame God for your presence, and if you were in Satan’s army, I’m sure you would like me to blame Him. So joke’s on you. I ain’t blaming God. And know that a great ALS army is praying for a cure and to force you to go, kicking and screaming into oblivion, a disease of the past.
Barbara
Monica welcome to the group. I love the images and as I said in group, my husband’s family came here from Lebanon, and I did enjoy the stuffed grape leaves and stuffed cabbage!