05/06/2025
Good morning, friends.and survivors
Awareness
This is one of my earliest poems — one I wrote with a heavy heart and a deep sense of love.
When I first began my working life, I cared for elderly women in a geriatric home, many of whom were living with Alzheimer's and the aftereffects of stroke. I made it my quiet mission to reach every single one of them, even if just for a minute. A smile, a song, a held hand something that said "I see you."
One of the women was Alice. She had lost her voice... and her children, too. They never came. And oh, how she would cry for them. Her pain wasn’t just visible — it was loud. Loud in her silence. Loud in her confusion. Loud in her longing.
This poem is for Alice. For my mother autie Patty. Audrey every one of the golden girls I had the privilege to know. I will never forget them.
💔 “Can You See Me?”
By Yvonne Kent Pateras
Can you see me?
I wonder sometimes.
Do you really see me?
I try to speak —
and then I forget.
Yes... that’s what happens.
I forget.
I cry and I cry.
I want to stop.
But I can’t.
And now,
I remember why I’m crying —
I’m crying for a thought.
A beautiful, precious thought.
So real,
so alive.
And now... it’s gone.
Stolen.
Lifted right out of my soul.
I shuffle down hallways,
my feet slow,
my hands fiddling with buttons,
looking —
not for a thing,
but for a feeling.
A memory.
A piece of me.
This ache —
this ache of what I’ve lost —
is more than I can explain.
Do you see why I cry now?
I drift in and out of shadows.
I feel empty.
Frightened.
So very frightened.
That’s why I cry.
And that’s why I sing —
to keep the shadows away.
🧠Reflections on my Poem (Plainspoken & Personal):
“Can You See Me?” ifrsn’t just about memory loss — it’s about identity. It’s about what it feels like to still be yourself inside, but not be able to show it on the outside.
This poem gives voice to someone who’s lost their connection to the world through language — not their intelligence, not their soul, just the words. That’s what aphasia can do. It hides parts of a person, even when they’re right in front of you.
Alice, like many people with aphasia or Alzheimer’s, wasn’t “gone.” She was in there — loving, longing, remembering. She just needed someone to meet her where she was to connect.
This poem is for her — and for all those whose voices have been made quiet by illness or injury. For every caregiver trying to understand. For every person wondering if they’re still seen.
The answer is yes.
Yes, we see you.
Yes, we remember.
Yes, we see… you are visible.
Yvonne Kent Pateras
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