Not long after Mum was diagnosed with PSP I wrote this poem
I want to be 7 years old again
To lie, curled,
With my head in my Mother's lap.
To have her stroke my hair and say
"Don't worry, everything will be ok".
But it can not,
for she is being stolen away.
Bit by bit
by something cruel.
Out of our control
Yesterday, I was sitting on the floor by Mum's chair, having just fed her and her hand reached out and stroked my hair twice.
Made my week.