One Family's Journey with Vascular Dementia
Grief is a funny old bedfellow. I hate it. I hate the explosive unpredictability of it. But I also wallow in its now familiar depths. It is where I feel close to my father. Where I hear his voice the clearest.
Continue reading “Behind Her Eyes”
I had my Covid jab this weekend. The whole set-up was impressive. From volunteer car park attendants directing me to a space, to the high-vis-wearing elderly gentleman pointing me in the right direction. “Elton John concert is that way!” he shouted with a grin. He was sporting a large grin, though of course I couldn’t’ see it because of his face mask.
Continue reading “Fish Finger Sandwiches & Lemonade Lollies”
I have not written a blog post for a while. I have not had the will, nor the words. And if I’m honest, I know there is enough doom and gloom around without my maudlin witterings.
Continue reading “Imperfectly Perfect Humanity”
I started this blog as a means of sharing my mother’s story. A woman cut down in her prime by an aggressive and rapid version of dementia. I never once dreamed whilst pouring my broken heart out on to the screen, expunging my pain through the over-sharing of my experience and shock, that I would need to use it to grieve my father.
The pain of school shoe shopping has engulfed me! And it’s not just the cost or having to do it in a stifling face mask. It’s so much more than that.
Continue reading “What I learnt From The Fanny Inspector”
It’s been over a week now since Dad’s funeral. Over two weeks since he passed away.
Continue reading “Bringing Mourning Back!”
Watching someone you love die is not what I expected. Continue reading “The Long Goodbye”
I sometimes worry about sharing so much of our family’s story. I know it is not everyone’s choice of therapy. My need to write, to expunge the fear and grief through words is a very personal thing. Continue reading ““A Bugger Of A disease” – By My Dad”
I am trying desperately to find the positive in our current situation. Having always been a bit of a dreamer – a girl with her nose in a book, carried along through life trusting in fate and goodness – I am now wracking my brain to try and decipher what positive I can take from it. Continue reading “Time To Make Time Count”
There are apparently five stages of grief: Continue reading “The Hulk State – A New Stage Of Grief?”
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