Have you seen the Pixar film "Up!"? If you have, the following may strike a chord.
Today I've been sorting through a massive amount of paperwork that I've retrieved from my father's house. Most of it is old bank statements and tax returns but in amongst the chaff there were letters and a few photographs.
They started off addressed to both him and my mother about selling his business premises - a nice nest egg for retirement.
Valentine's cards to each other - "I will love you always" with their pet names for each other
An affirmation sheet my mother wrote, including how grateful she was that nobody in the family had cancer.
Then the purchase documents of a car he bought her as a "congratulations for beating cancer" present.
Then letters from her friends saying how awful it is to have heard of her diagnosis now that the cancer came back.
Then letters from MacMillan saying how she is going to be cared for.
Then letters from DWP saying she's entitled to disability benefit (helpfully dated 3 days after she died, in 2008)
Then letters of condolence addressed to my father only.
Then letters from cancer charities thanking him for his generous donation.
Then letters saying he has various hospital appointments.
Then letters saying his accounts/tax are overdue.
Then the letter confirming his dementia diagnosis.
Interspersed are various professional documents showing the intelligent man he once was (chartered surveyor). I come back inside to find him wearing pyjamas as he's managed to wee all down his trousers and can't work out (or explain to me) why the toilet has changed (it hasn't). I'm grieving and he isn't even dead.
I had my first counselling session today, organised by Care For The Carers. The overwhelming theme was my sense of guilt. Guilt for getting frustrated with him. Guilt for enjoying being away from him for a bit. Guilt for looking to sell his house without giving him the opportunity to say goodbye. Guilt for changing the locks so the people who did care for him for a while can't get back in (see my other thread on recommending a solicitor). Guilt for helping myself to stuff in his house that nobody else would want. Guilt for all sorts of things. I'm just hoping that over the course of the sessions I can reconcile some of these feelings.
Sorry for the long winded post.
Today I've been sorting through a massive amount of paperwork that I've retrieved from my father's house. Most of it is old bank statements and tax returns but in amongst the chaff there were letters and a few photographs.
They started off addressed to both him and my mother about selling his business premises - a nice nest egg for retirement.
Valentine's cards to each other - "I will love you always" with their pet names for each other
An affirmation sheet my mother wrote, including how grateful she was that nobody in the family had cancer.
Then the purchase documents of a car he bought her as a "congratulations for beating cancer" present.
Then letters from her friends saying how awful it is to have heard of her diagnosis now that the cancer came back.
Then letters from MacMillan saying how she is going to be cared for.
Then letters from DWP saying she's entitled to disability benefit (helpfully dated 3 days after she died, in 2008)
Then letters of condolence addressed to my father only.
Then letters from cancer charities thanking him for his generous donation.
Then letters saying he has various hospital appointments.
Then letters saying his accounts/tax are overdue.
Then the letter confirming his dementia diagnosis.
Interspersed are various professional documents showing the intelligent man he once was (chartered surveyor). I come back inside to find him wearing pyjamas as he's managed to wee all down his trousers and can't work out (or explain to me) why the toilet has changed (it hasn't). I'm grieving and he isn't even dead.
I had my first counselling session today, organised by Care For The Carers. The overwhelming theme was my sense of guilt. Guilt for getting frustrated with him. Guilt for enjoying being away from him for a bit. Guilt for looking to sell his house without giving him the opportunity to say goodbye. Guilt for changing the locks so the people who did care for him for a while can't get back in (see my other thread on recommending a solicitor). Guilt for helping myself to stuff in his house that nobody else would want. Guilt for all sorts of things. I'm just hoping that over the course of the sessions I can reconcile some of these feelings.
Sorry for the long winded post.