Last week I have to admit that I was actually counting down the days until my dad went to respite for the weekend. Nothing in the week had made it any more tiring than any other. Perhaps it was knowing this would be my last precious time alone to do things just for myself until the end of January. That's a lot of Columbo!
We spent our week as usual going back and forth to the shopping centre and picking up little bits and pieces for Christmas. Sharing coffees and lunches and listening to him pass remarks on everyone who walked by:
"Look at the size of her/him! Size of a hoose!"
"Skelp it's erse!" (translate: slap it's bottom to the poor parents of small children who were screaming, crying and acting out in public)
"No watchin' where they're bliddy goin!" to those who walk towards his chair with their noses in their mobile phones and almost land on dad's lap.
These are only a few quotes. I should really keep a notebook in my bag to write things down but I'd probably have writers cramp at the end of the day.
Dad is going to be 90 in January. The weather will play a part in where I take him if in fact we venture out at all. He knows he's getting on a bit but will often ask, "What age am I again?"
We watched a 92 year old man on the Michael MacIntyre show last weekend. He was belting out the song "My Way."
"I hope I can sing like that when I'm 10 to 2," dad said. I knew what he meant. It just came out wrong. More and more he starts to tell me something and the words fail him. He gets more frustrated about it than I do. It's a shame.
Medication and me are getting on famously. My eyes are wide even when I feel quite tired. My mood is lighter and I seem to have developed a stronger will and determination. Things that may have bothered me to a ridiculous degree no longer seem to affect my being...and that is a great feeling. I have less pain in my lower body but my hands continue to give me problems. Mornings are the worst but night time is almost as bad as my body gets into a relaxed mode, it tenses and tightens and there's nothing I can do to alleviate the pain and discomfort. But there IS a difference so I'll hang on to that and hope that one day it will disappear and I'll be back to being the me that I deserve to be.
Alcohol is no longer a feature in my life at the moment. It is the biggest and probably the worst depressant around. My Prosecco bottle had almost become my comfort blanket in the past year...perhaps two if I'm honest. The easiest way to switch things off is to drown yourself in bubbles but the alter ego it creates only masks the hurt and emotions held within. I have never felt so refreshed in a looooooong time. Facing all my fears and worries and reaching a sane and sober conclusion is more important now than ever. I matter. I really do.
I matter...to me.
On Saturday I had a wonderful day. I spent most of it with Paul's mum, Jackie. I have so many fabulous photos of Paul from way back. School days, holidays and respite weekends. My family surrounding him with love and him providing us with much humour and an insight to his life that I will treasure forever. I shared the photos with Jackie and Paul's dad, Ralph and brother Sam. Jackie had her own photos to share with me too and as we sat sifting through them, we recalled so much and laughed more than we cried. In fact, I don't think a single tear was shed that day at all...except with laughter.
Jackie and I went off to spend some time at the famous Gyle shopping centre. Paul and I frequented the place so often that I feel a statue of him should be created in his honour! We had lunch and talked and talked...and talked some more. How sad it was to be sitting there without our boy, but how good it was to talk about everything about him. The good times, the bad and sad times leading to his passing. Jackie's dad also has dementia. We spoke about both our dads and as I shared stories with her about mine we would often stop to laugh out loud. Even in the darkest times, a sense of humour will always pull you through.
It was already dark when I left Jackie and Ralph to their evening. I am still getting used to the fact that I don't have to be home by a certain time or live by the clock. Instead of going straight home I stopped by a bargain store to look at all the Christmas decorations and lights. I bought another little twinkly thing to delight my dad when he came home from respite. He thinks I'm daft.
I think I'm amazing! 😁
Dad's home from respite and settled back into his recliner. So far I've managed to avoid Columbo but we've watched White Christmas at least once a day. He likes the songs and joins in with a hint of impersonation of Bing Crosby. I should try and video him doing it....it's worth a watch.
"Take a deep breath. It's just a bad day, not a bad life."
I love you. You’re such an inspiration. I wish I had you when my husband was going through his depression after losing his job when he became disabled. We got through it. I just remembered that everything is for a reason and this too shall pass. I’t all was, it all did, we are strong and we can.
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