I've met him but I've never known him, or so they say.
I've only ever met him after the alzheimers took hold.
They say that he was a fun guy,
now he yells and acts like a dog.
My Grandma tells him what to do and he does it without question.
If we're too loud he yells,
it saddens me.
I have a memory,
of how he may have been before.
I was in fifth grade. He was having a good day.
He let me leave my homework behind to play dominoes,
and eat strawberries doused in whipped-cream.
That is my memory. Here is my lesson.
Enjoy your friends's time as much as you enjoy yours.
One of you will expire before the other,
then the other will need memories to cherish.
Like I cherish the memory of the strawberries.
