The Grey Room

A Poem by Jym Parrella

My father passed away from Alzheimer’s and dimentia. This poem is based off a conversation we had during his lucid times.

We sit at the dayroom table talking
Me dressed in black as if to attend his daily funeral
“Michael it’s so good to see you!”
They tell you to roll with it so you don’t scare them
“Hey Pop it’s good to see you too!”
The uncomfortable conversations begin as his clouded mind jumps from time period to time period
My stomach in knots as the shell that used to be my father speaks.
Then as if the the light bulb suddenly turns on he looks
“Jym, when did you get here?” He smiles
“Michael was just here and you guys are dressed the same.”
I smile at him “ hey dad.”
The tears hit the flood gates as years of guilt hit me like a train.
More conversations that I’ve never heard about cars and experiences I was to young or not around to remember
Then it happens.
As if God himself granted my father some freedom
He looks at me and bursts into tears
I’m a child again.
“Daddy what’s wrong?!”
His reply slow and direct
“I can hear and I can see you” his voice shutters under the weight
He touches my face
Boyhood memories rush to me like sands through an hour glass
“I know your here when you visit but it’s like I’m trapped in a gray room with windows but no doors”
The flood gates open.
Tears stream down my face fast and warm
“I want to escape but I can’t, just know I love you”
I cry on my father’s shoulder
He holds me like a child
This frail man holds his 38 year old son like he’s 3 and I wept
As I slowly sit up to wipe my eyes and collect myself
My head down to breath I hear him say
“Michael it’s so good to see you! Jym was just here.... you guys are dressed the same”