It’s only when you look back at photos of a year ago or a few months ago that you notice the decline. If you dare to look, then the difference – the decline – is face-slappingly obvious. Continue reading “Singing for Dementia. Singing to cope.”
Not The Mother I Thought I Was
We run. As a family. It’s become a bit of a “thing”.
I blame the Park Run. We thought we’d try it last summer and almost twelve months later, we still turn up almost every week, come rain or shine. Continue reading “Not The Mother I Thought I Was”
Dementia: The Importance of Swinging Your Ponytail
My mum used to have very long hair as a child. So long she could sit on it, apparently. Growing up, it was a story I would share with my friends with immense pride. Continue reading “Dementia: The Importance of Swinging Your Ponytail”
A Mother’s Day Letter To My Mum
Dear Mum,
The years are flying past so fast! It’s now four years since we started to lose you. It seems like yesterday in some ways, but then so much has happened. You’ve missed so much, Mum. Continue reading “A Mother’s Day Letter To My Mum”
For The Love of Food
We’ve always loved food in our family. Our portion sizes are legendary. I can out-eat Hubby no problems at all and my kids are showing the signs of taking after me. I am secretly very proud! Continue reading “For The Love of Food”
Father Christmas is Real
A few post-Christmas words by my dad….. Continue reading “Father Christmas is Real”
Vascular Dementia and Preparing for THAT phone call
Radio 1 Newsbeat have today done a feature on dementia. It was a hard listen. A young lady called Hayley described her father’s rapid decline into Pick’s Disease and how his whole personality has changed and how she struggles to love him as he is no longer the same man. Continue reading “Vascular Dementia and Preparing for THAT phone call”
Girl About Harrogate
I am just back from a lovely girly weekend away to Ibiza. The last time I went to Ibiza, I was 17. I and my three fellow 17-year old friends partied and holidayed like only teenagers can. It was pure freedom. Continue reading “Girl About Harrogate”
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