It’s been just over ten months since we said goodbye to my lovely dad. To be honest, in those dark days following his untimely death, when time seemed to stand still and it felt like I was walking through treacle, I really thought Mum would go too.Continue reading “The Final Curtain”
Hubby and I ventured out on a date last week. First time in goodness knows how long that we went out, just the two of us.
As usual, when it comes to me leaving the house, he was in the car, engine running. Tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, wondering why the hell it was taking me so long to get out the house.Continue reading “My Eyes, Golf & Grief”
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”
Continue reading “Mabel’s Idea of Heaven”
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.
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”
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.”