Sitting with you, Dad I sit here on your bed with you, Dad. You smile at me so sweetly. Words no longer come from your mouth. Lewy Body has taken them. I know you are still in there somewhere. Hidden between the horrid Lewy Body plaques. Your baby blues still shine at me. Your arms up and down. Your head back and forth. Your mind is a continuous flow of disrupted signals. I pray for an angel of peace and mercy to be with you. Your loving daughter, Denise