Howardism Musings from my Awakening Dementia
My collected thoughts flamed by hubris
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I love this poem Howard! It sure captures the essence of married life, so personal yet a part of everything.

—Sara

They Laugh at Jokes only They Appreciate

Why don't we hold hands like we used to?
Well, someone has to push the stroller.

The traffic lights contrast nicely against the sunset sky.
Yah, It makes it so much roodier.

That tree looks like it has arms.
What tree?
That one … the one with the arms.
You're weird.

What do you think Flora will say when she can talk?
Uh, can I borrow the keys?

This is nice.
Yeah, but an escalator would be nicer.

How come you don't touch me anymore?
I'll touch you tonight if you stay awake.
I'm serious.
Me too. Besides, you know the answer to that.
I've been busy at work, and you've been going to bed early…
We just have to work at it a little more … You know I love you.
Yeah.
Let's go home.

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