Bridget’s safe and well so what am i concerned about? i’m concerned the way my emotions for her have lessened cos i’ve got my own practical and emotional stuff.
i suppose once i feel more normal i’ll fret over her. She may not remember me of course but it doesn’t matter, i still love her to bits.
peter
After another too early start tot he day I came on to TP to look for comfort I guess, and have been reading this thread. Wow! What heroes and heroines you are, though that is the last that any of you feel, and in fact engage more in self torture and abuse. There is so much I would like to say/ respond/ share but it has all been said before and better by others. I would however like to share something I wrote a few weeks ago, when I couldn’t stop crying, for the myriad of complicated and convoluted reasons that we wives/ husbands/ partners/ whoever cry when our nearest and dearest have dementia...
Tears flow
From untapped oceans of grief,
Cascading down the rock face,
Eroding a path,
Wearing away,
Smoothing down.
Endless supply
From a source unknown,
Too deeply buried, hidden
To be seen
Until, after millennia,
The layers are worn away,
One by one
Like Aslan’s claw.
It is futile to resist,
To try to dam the flow,
To stem the tide.
It will break through.
Relentlessly,
Regardlessly,
Repeatedly,
Until surrender is the only option.
And there is a peace in that.
A calm from ceasing to resist,
From not resisting,
From accepting,
From “ going with the flow”,
As they say.
They who have experienced little more than a summer shower.
Being swept downstream
Over rapids and falls,
Through calm pools,
Across flood plains
Towards the ocean
Where one’s tears meet those
Wept over centuries
Of war, famine, disease, disaster,
Of loss , betrayal, death, pain,
Of being human.
Cry then.
Tears of rage,
Tears of grief,
Tears of sadness,
Tears of frustration,
Tears of uncertainty and confusion,
Tears of knowing and not knowing,
Tears of helplessness,
Tears of hopelessness,
Tears
Tears
Tears.
The facade so carefully assembled
Begins to crumble
And Is seen for what it really is.
A mask, a pretence, a disguise,
An attempt to give others what they seek,
To avoid disturbing, unsettling.
To keep the peace
And to pre-empt the predictable cliches of sympathy, encouragement and advice,
Which fall on deaf ears because it has all been heard before
And means no more now than it did then.
Best do without,
Or seek out those who know,
Those who have been there,
Those who are there.
Those with whom you can laugh through the tears
And cry through the laughter,
To whom anything can be said
And thoughts and feelings shared,
Bringing relief and comfort
And companionship on the journey.
You are not alone.
HCT x