Hello @blackmortimer @kindred @Old Flopsy @Stacey sue @Pusskins and others I might have missed.
I don’t know about anyone else but I find mornings the worse. The prospect of a whole day ahead is awful.
Also, there no one else to do stuff. Bridget used to help, we’d share all the clearing up, the basic household chores. She’d move furniture around, make a difference.
I’ve just come back from the dentist and she’d say “how did you get on”. I’d moan about the cost and the we’d get on with our day, perhaps a ride out or shopping. Now nothing.
I don’t think loneliness gets any easier ( it’s not for me) and I’m going to be reminded today of the women I used to know when I visit the home soon. I looked at a picture of us in better times and I realised that this is a woman I used to know ( it’s really weird) and I don’t remember that life now.
I mean, you know, if she was brought back to me before dementia then I’m sure it wouldn’t take long to pick up the pieces of our old life. I can’t even sit outside in the sunny garden with a tea as it reminds me of sitting in the open when we enjoyed camping and the outdoors. Too many reminders! I’ve a shed full of camping gear and a redundant small stylish German caravan on the drive.
She remembers nothing and I remember everything. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I even write these posts to you all knowing it’ll upset me? I need to share with those who really know similar emotions.
peter
I don’t know about anyone else but I find mornings the worse. The prospect of a whole day ahead is awful.
Also, there no one else to do stuff. Bridget used to help, we’d share all the clearing up, the basic household chores. She’d move furniture around, make a difference.
I’ve just come back from the dentist and she’d say “how did you get on”. I’d moan about the cost and the we’d get on with our day, perhaps a ride out or shopping. Now nothing.
I don’t think loneliness gets any easier ( it’s not for me) and I’m going to be reminded today of the women I used to know when I visit the home soon. I looked at a picture of us in better times and I realised that this is a woman I used to know ( it’s really weird) and I don’t remember that life now.
I mean, you know, if she was brought back to me before dementia then I’m sure it wouldn’t take long to pick up the pieces of our old life. I can’t even sit outside in the sunny garden with a tea as it reminds me of sitting in the open when we enjoyed camping and the outdoors. Too many reminders! I’ve a shed full of camping gear and a redundant small stylish German caravan on the drive.
She remembers nothing and I remember everything. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I even write these posts to you all knowing it’ll upset me? I need to share with those who really know similar emotions.
peter