Watching

The woman who raised me,
Is slowly losing the plot.
I'm 21 now,
Some days she struggles to finish a sentence,
Without getting frustrated
Because she can't think of the word she wants.

It reminds me of when I sat on her lap,
As she taught me to read,
But she'd never tell me the word,
Make me sound it out,
And work it out on my own.  
Because she didn't believe
It was up to the school to teach me everything.
So while everyone else was still reading Biff and Chip,
I was on Tracy Beaker.
She taught me to say please and thank you.
Because no grandchild of hers
Would be a little shit
Without common courtesy.

Her mum, My Nanny Vee,
Didn't get this way until her mid 90s,
So we thought she'd be the same.
Mid 60s, and it's starting.
My Nanny Vee couldn't remember who I was
For the last 5 years of her life,
Even though I took my first steps,
Said my first word,
Ate my first solid meal in her house.
And once she'd really forgotten me,
She couldn't see me,
Or hear me.

She'll be fine for the time being,
As long as we're patient.
But patience isn't my family's forte.
They all specialise in biting sarcasm,
Merciless 'humour'
Poking fun, for show.

I'm watching the woman who raised me
Slowly losing the plot.

And there's nothing I can do.