Becoming Something Other

I got a call, I got a phonecall from my mother
Your Dad is changing, he is becoming something other
And you may not recognise him when you come
And he may not realise it's you
There's part of him that is completely numb

He'd not been well; his eyes and legs were almost useless
He'd been depressive, he hated looking so damn foolish
And the CAT scan showed his brain was losing mass
And he didn't know each morning
Where he was or how he'd come to this impasse

He took the phone; his voice was querulous and distant
I hared an old man and knew it in an instant
And he told me how it was to be so blind
And he told me how it was to know
Precisely how it felt to lose his mind

I asked my Dad how much his vision was impaired
He said he sees things but that the
things he sees are things that are not there
Then he paused and quietly spoke these words that chilled
He said, "I have my own small thoughts about that"
And I felt the air around me grow quite still

For my Dad was telling me that he was dying
He was telling me in such a gentle way
And I couldn't stop myself from softly crying
As he formed the mindless words that had their say

I got a call, I got a phonecall from my mother
Your Dad is changing, he is becoming something other