C
Chesca
Guest
Help! Am having a terribly weepy day, today.
As time goes by I am finding it harder and harder to visit Mum, instead of it getting easier. Just as I've convinced myself that all is OK and clatter along with an air of acceptance along comes some awful cloud of negativity - grief, doom and gloom.
Have tried to vary the times I visit and found the nights to be the best - just after 8; there isn't the busying of staff rushing around, hoisting, bathing, toileting, etc and some kind of wierd calm seems to fall - although calm is certainly not true for some of the poor residents, one of whom, I swear, must have worked at some time in her life flogging 'arf a pound o musherooms' to customers in Swansea from a barrow in Liverpool without the aid of a megaphone, such is her vocal projection! God help her! But, even accounting for that particular recitative, it is better - I suppose because an attempt is made at some semblance of normality. Supper at 8.15 hot drinks and snacks, background noise of the TV, everybody sitting, resting or falling out of armchairs and Mum and I share a small picnic of eclairs or trifle which she thoroughly enjoys. If she is receptive to the idea, sometimes I am able to dress her for bed and return her to the lounge cuddly in the dressing gown.
It's just that at the moment I am having to psych myself up for it just when I thought I had it cracked! The last evening visit, I suppose, was the catalyst for this particular cloud - she leaned across to me, put her hand to my face and said, 'you are lovely' and every time I think of it my heart breaks just a little more. The emotional stuff is the PITS! I wonder if she would think I was lovely if she could read what goes on in my head sometimes.
Sorry for the whinge. Need to go tonight and take flowers and am already screwed up, like the child going to the dentist who frets and then discovers that it is never as bad as she thought it was going to be - she still has her head on! Can't even practice my own philosophy!
Lots of love
Chesca
As time goes by I am finding it harder and harder to visit Mum, instead of it getting easier. Just as I've convinced myself that all is OK and clatter along with an air of acceptance along comes some awful cloud of negativity - grief, doom and gloom.
Have tried to vary the times I visit and found the nights to be the best - just after 8; there isn't the busying of staff rushing around, hoisting, bathing, toileting, etc and some kind of wierd calm seems to fall - although calm is certainly not true for some of the poor residents, one of whom, I swear, must have worked at some time in her life flogging 'arf a pound o musherooms' to customers in Swansea from a barrow in Liverpool without the aid of a megaphone, such is her vocal projection! God help her! But, even accounting for that particular recitative, it is better - I suppose because an attempt is made at some semblance of normality. Supper at 8.15 hot drinks and snacks, background noise of the TV, everybody sitting, resting or falling out of armchairs and Mum and I share a small picnic of eclairs or trifle which she thoroughly enjoys. If she is receptive to the idea, sometimes I am able to dress her for bed and return her to the lounge cuddly in the dressing gown.
It's just that at the moment I am having to psych myself up for it just when I thought I had it cracked! The last evening visit, I suppose, was the catalyst for this particular cloud - she leaned across to me, put her hand to my face and said, 'you are lovely' and every time I think of it my heart breaks just a little more. The emotional stuff is the PITS! I wonder if she would think I was lovely if she could read what goes on in my head sometimes.
Sorry for the whinge. Need to go tonight and take flowers and am already screwed up, like the child going to the dentist who frets and then discovers that it is never as bad as she thought it was going to be - she still has her head on! Can't even practice my own philosophy!
Lots of love
Chesca