Category Archives: dementia

A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry

My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.

Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.

Carolers Wrap the Season
by Raynette Eitel

In cold snow-dreams tied with fa-la-la ribbons,
And in nostalgia, prickly with holly,
Damp with tears, sharp with memories of
Melodies thick with the cinnamon scent of Christmas,
A holy hush hovers between the songs.

It is an empty space filled with Bethlehem
As a silver star slips along the sky
Showing the way surely, silently
To all who would search.

Once again, the music pulses its proclamation
“Gloria in Excelsis Deo!”
Pouring arpeggios like candies bursting from a piñata
Leaving the listeners on their knees
Scrambling for a morsel,
And breathless with ecstasy.

The carolers turn to leave
Calling out “Merry Christmas!”
And though they are gone, their music remains.
It is a package, pulsing like a candle in the darkness.
Those listening are not sure for a moment
Whether Bethlehem is near or far.

A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry

My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.

Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.

Calypso Christmas
by Raynette Eitel, 1989

Some places Christmas comes in like a calypso,
Steel bands playing a Merry Christmas across white sands,
Bongos beating a message for dancing,
Always the dancing barefoot, frenzied,
Skin glistening beneath a hot sun.

Some places Christmas trims trees in fruit,
Juicy balls of orange and tangerine,
Bunches of bananas bending low
Coconuts hanging way above reach,
Swaying as the calypso on the beach plays on.

Some places Christmas comes in with perfumed air
From swags of bougainvillea as
The Christmas calypso drifts into open windows.
People lean far out to catch the rhythm,
Laughing a joyful laugh, tapping a happy beat,
Sending little showers of petals fluttering
Like red butterflies in the breeze.

Before morning, a warm blue sea erases footprints
From the silent sand; and yet
A steel band sound lingers on the surf,
And that Christmas calypso beat lasts all year long.

A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry

My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.

Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.

As a Little Child
by Raynette Eitel

A little child with Christmas eyes,
Peppermint lips, and sticky hands
Stood paper-doll still,
Everything within her body straining
To hear the sounds of hoofbeats on the roof
And a mighty “Ho-Ho-Ho” echoing across the night.

Only the ancient certainty of childhood
Could account for those dancing feet stilled
Or expectant eyes looking everywhere
For signs of his coming.

I, long-since deafened and blinded by years,
Watch warily as Wonder and Awe and Love
Are born again in this child.

My breathing stops,
My own ears strain to catch a sound.
And oh, the wonder of knowing once again
The deafening whisper of angel wings and
The healing glimpse of one bright star.