It follows nobody’s rules
But makes up its own
Every day
Which, for my mom,
Happened to be Sunday
Alzheimer’s is
Soup cans in the wrong cupboard
Flour in the sugar canister
Lipstick on the eyebrows
It’s marmalade on lasagne
And hot dogs
Forgotten names
Remembered faces
(Sometimes)
But that poem that she memorized
In 5th grade
And still can recite
(Come, listen, my children and you shall hear…)
That dogged determination to get to church
Because it’s Sunday
(which it isn’t)
That desire to prepare food
(with marmalade on it)
And serve it to family
And guests
That’s my mom
Who battled a disease
That followed nobody’s rules
This is my submission for the W3 Challenge this week. We were challenged to read and draw inspiration from Poet of the Week Bob Lynn’s poem ‘What Remains’ — which you can find if you follow the link to the W3 page.
Two further requirements were as follows:
Requirement 1: Poetic Device
- Your poem must prominently feature metaphor as a central device. Like the dandelions in the inspiration piece, use metaphorical imagery to explore themes of persistence, belonging, growth, or survival.
Requirement 2: Required Phrase
- Your poem must include the exact phrase “nobody’s rules” somewhere within the text. You may use it as written, or incorporate it naturally into your poem’s flow and structure.
My mom had Alzheimer’s. She died in 2015. She was the inspiration for this blog — hence the name “Hot Dogs and Marmalade.” I still remember the day, during her marmalade phase, she served that to my father and me. It wasn’t that bad.
Sally a lovely poem, “follows nobody’s rules / but makes up its own.” you show how simple markers of time – like “Sunday”, become dislodged by dementia, thanks for sharing ❤️
Your poem is beautiful. I actually read it aloud to my husband. His mom died a year ago (she was almost 99) and her mind was gone for the last couple of years. Up until then – she was so sharp and so smart. She prepared and served Sunday lunch to her family every single Sunday for decades. She still worried about her menu and her centerpieces and who was coming . . .even if it wasn’t Sunday.
I have always wondered where you got the name for your blog. What a heartfelt tribute ❤️❤️❤️
I wondered too. Dementia is a really tough one.
Poignantly true. My mom could remember songs even after she stopped speaking. (K)
You’ve captured the pathos of the disease. My sister’s MIL has finally gotten to the stage where she doesn’t recognize her son. He was heartbroken.
A cruel disease indeed. How wonderful though that your blog is a loving living tribute to your Mum.
Hi Sally – what a profoundly moving and beautifully crafted poem you’ve written! Your ability to find such tender moments of grace within the challenging reality of Alzheimer’s is truly remarkable. The way you’ve structured this piece – with those concrete, everyday images like marmalade on lasagne and lipstick on eyebrows – makes the experience so vivid and relatable. I’m particularly struck by how you’ve balanced the confusion and loss with the enduring love and determination that defines your mum’s character. The progression from the chaotic details to that powerful ending celebrating who she truly is shows such skilled storytelling. Your voice here is both honest and deeply compassionate, capturing something universal about love that persists through illness. This poem will surely touch many hearts and help others feel less alone in similar journeys.
Sally, your poem moves me deeply. “Marmalade on lasagne / And hot dogs” captures the surreal tenderness of Alzheimer’s with such clarity—it feels disarming, sad, and oddly beautiful to me all at once… wow.
~David
You have captured so well how bizarre life can become and how normal we make it – this is so tenderly done 💞
hi, Sally 🥰
Just wanna let you know that this week’s W3, hosted by our beloved Murisopsis (Val), is now live:
https://skepticskaddish.com/2025/07/02/w3-prompt-166-weave-written-weekly/
Enjoy!
Much love,
David
This is beautiful, tragic and tender,