Guest Blogger - Mandy Ross

 ​Mandy Ross is a poet and children's author. She writes in community arts projects.  Her dad, Alan, 84, is a retired pharmacist. He recently moved into a nice Jewish care home. He's only ever been Jew-ish; the Jewishness of the place would appall him were he in any fit state... there must be a Jewish joke in there somewhere.

Nisht Vor Mir

Today my father summons his grandmother,
an old lady. Nisht vor mir, she would say.
Not for me, someone else must bend to pick up from the floor. 
Nisht vor mir, I am old now, I am too old.
He is a small, obedient grandson, picking up the things she drops.

Now my father is his grandmother's age.
He is amazed. Old? Me? Nisht vor mir.
His eyes hide blankness.
He swims lost in a wood, his map a sieve of branches.
His old watch ticks in the present tense.

He swims lost in a wood, his map a sieve of branches.

Now he is the young man in the photo in Mum’s wallet
nearly sixty years since they made their vows.
(Youth’s easy promise. Old age? Nisht vor uns.)
Now she counts out her pledge to him with his bedtime pills,
helps him dress, keeps his youth between the notes.
 
Nisht vor mir: Not for me (Yiddish)

---

Pun-gent

Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Dad.
Dad who?
Still Dad, still likes a joke.

Waiter, waiter, there’s a fly in the care home.
Don’t shout, sir, everyone will want one.
What do you get if you cross Dad with dementia?
Pun-gent.
Hates a shower, still loves wordplay.

Doctor, doctor,
What’s actually happening in Dad’s brain?
Are there holes like Swiss cheese?
Not in the humour cortex.

What has four legs and can see just as well from either end?
This armchair. It’s very comfy,
but you’ll get sore if you sit for too long.

I say, I say, I say,
what’s the point of telling jokes in the residents’ lounge?
Still human, still waiting for the punchline.

What goes ha-ha-ha-bonk?
Patients, staff and visitors laughing their heads off.

What’s actually happening in Dad’s brain?
Are there holes like Swiss cheese?
Not in the humour cortex.