We all process our emotions differently and for those living in the shadows of Alzheimer’s disease, there is no right or wrong. Some will isolate and hide their tears while someone else might become active in a community support group. Some will write a blog while another may write poetry.
I am the blogger in my family. I cry while I write. It is my therapy. My brother is the poet and his poetry makes me cry too. He is also an artist. My brother is a private person. If he cries, he does it alone because I do not see it but his pain over losing our Dad, one memory at a time, is just as real as mine. We just express it differently.
I am blessed to have this man as my brother and I am sharing his recent work with you today with pride. I love you little bro!