sistermillicent
Registered User

Things have been changing for me and now I don't think I am classed as a carer any more, I may even have to reclassify myself as an invisible. It finally got the better of me, and I have backed off. I have visited only twice this summer, I have no regrets. My final attempt at helping dad with computers etc was to find out about the age uk silver surfers course and he declined, he could not accept that I would be able to look after mum while he was out, so I have left it at that.
He is

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I have decided to blog this rather than post it as it does not demand an answer in the way that a thread does, yesterday I discovered just how nasty some of the members on here are. I am so upset at the treatment and particularly nasty and obvious judgement of a new member that I am considering not returning to this site.
There are people on this site who just want it for themselves and are so small minded and petty that they cannot cope with a bit of diversity.
These same people

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Last night I had a dream, that I was reunited very briefly with the person I loved ten years ago, just to say goodbye, which was something we had not been able to do properly.

It has left me feeling utterly abandoned and my day is in pieces before it even starts. I wonder how long I will continue to have these dreams, they are much less frequent than they were.

Things have become manageable over the years and I have seriously tried to find reasons to carry on (initially

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I have not been posting for a while, partly I left off because things got so bad with mum that there was nothing left to say. Then, just as things got a little better, my daughter's housemate at university lost her mother very quickly to cancer, quite young, and my daughter;s close friend here at home lost her 6 month baby to cot death, all in the last two weeks. My view on life is different just now. I found myself sitting in a house with a family I didn't know hearing all about this wonderful

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Parental Recollections By Charles Lamb 1775–1834
A child's a plaything for an hour;
Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space;
Then tire, and lay it by.


But I knew one, that to itself
All seasons could controul;
That would have mock'd the sense of pain
Out of a grieved soul.


Thou, straggler into loving arms,
Young climber up of knees,

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