Leah Nero CWA 2005

Creative Writing Award Winner - 2005

Class of 2007

Leah J. Nero is a GEPN student in the FNP tract. Originally from Vermont, Leah obtained her B.A. in 2002 from Union College of Schenectady, NY, where she completed a double major in international political science and Spanish. Before coming to YSN, Leah worked as a Research Associate at Boston Medical Center conducting AIDS research in traditionally underrepresented populations.

Transcript of the Reading:

Losing Mr. Jitterbug

You tried, I know you did,
I saw your fingers
Flutter faintly, and fail,
Entwined in grotesque,
Contorted, arthritic joints.
I saw you wince,
Your eyes snap like shutters,
Against the searing pain,
Distinct, forceful, blinks.

On a scale of one to ten,
You said your pain,
Was maybe a fifteen,
And I believed you.
I tried to do everything,
As if you were made of glass,
You nearly were,
At 86 ceramic pounds.

You tried, I know you did,
To swallow your breakfast,
A little more than usual,
With my coaxing.
Somehow you weren’t angry or rude,
Despite the situation,

You wanted to be agreeable.
So I aligned myself,
With your pleasantness,
To try to make you stronger.
We were a team.

I saw how your vacant,
Sunken, baby bird mouth,
Gawked awkwardly,
To accept my spoon-feed,
Cautiously.
When I asked if you like Fall,
You said you didn’t much care
About seasons,
As long as you weren’t hungry.

And I tried to distract you,
Till finally you laughed a bit,
About doing the Jitterbug,
And it swirled around us,
Bright and astounding,
This flurry of laugher,
Like the first snowfall 
Of the season.
You told me you played hockey,
And sure, you got in fights.
I told you, you were tough,
And we believed it.

And then the nurse came in,
All impatient and abrupt.
And our little isle 
Of trust, of tranquility, collapsed,
As she poked and prodded and shoved,
Without warning, or explanation,
Or any kind words for you.
It hurt terribly,
And when you cried out she exclaimed,
Oh they didn’t tell me,
You’re a difficult one.

And I stood dumbfounded,
By her brazen force,
Stunned and out-ranked,
I stood by, mute,
And didn’t come to your defense,
Such that when she left,
You regarded me quite suspiciously.
I don’t blame you,
You had been wounded, mishandled,
And I was one of Them,
Complicit.

You slipped into a different you,
Babbling and confused,
About your mother,
And forgetting your wife’s name.
I saw you retreat into your tortuous labyrinth
Of mixed memories and pain.
I held your hand but I’d already
Lost you to the land within
Where dementia reigns supreme.
And I could not keep you from spinning away.
And I never evoked another smile,
Or chuckle,Such as that one,
For the Jitterbug.

I have to tell you,
I’m so sorry.
I didn’t know how to stop her,
Or if I could.
She led,
And I let her,
Push me backwards.
I didn’t know how to tell her,
That early this morning,
We had staked out,
Some safe ground together.
We had laughed a little dance here.
We had believed.