A Poem for Paul Moya
The Faces of Alzheimer's
Where Memories Are Kept Alive...
This is a poem by Christine Bean, dedicated to her Dad, Paul Moya.  Like countless others, she took care of him 36 hours a day, for two years.  You can visit her site here.  This poem can also be found on her website, here
This is dedicated to my Dad.
The man who raised me, loved me, fought for me and our country.
Little did he know that the biggest battle he would fight would be within.
Thank you for fighting so many battles, especially this one.
He's a hero.
Here's to you Dad...wherever you are at any given moment.

Alzheimers...prison of the mind.

He looks at me with his huge hazel eyes
With a mind that tells him so many lies.

He looks like he has so many things to say,
"My eyes work, but my brain doesn't today."

"There has to be a time I remember your face."
"But now I don't recall the how or the place."

"I'm to love and your being here should be a clue."
"I just can't remember it's supposed to be you."

"I thought I had a wife, friends and a family once before."
"But my home was taken. I don't recognize this door."

"I have things to say to you that are on the tip of my tongue."
"Recent memories are gone. All I recall was when I was young."

"I can't drive a car or mow the lawn."
"My skills for all that are forever gone."

"I need to go to the bathroom and I need someone here."
"But I don't remember who to call so I don't cuz of fear."

"This makes me want to lash out at you."
"It's hurting me what I'm going through."

"I know it's not your fault nor is it mine."
"But I do know I'll never again be fine."

"Hear me shout inside this prison I call my mind."
"Forgive me if I hurt you or may treat you unkind."

"I will never run out of things to say."
"Take me home God I find I pray."

I know you're sad Paul. I know you're there.
I may not understand you, but I'll forever care.

He now appears to be a shell of a man.
He does the best he remembers he can.

When he goes home he'll have much to gain.
God will take away all this, especially his pain.

I want to love you, hug you and say it's "OK."
I know your brain wanders or goes astray.

You will always be loved wherever you are.
No matter within reach. No matter how bizarre.

No matter how you look at it or spell D-a-d it will be the same.
Backwards, forwards. It's the name to me you'll forever claim.

Love ya Dad....

Christine Elaine Bean
Left - Paul and his wife, Rita
Below - Paul and his daughter, Christine