Ted, I've had a really bad day today, myself - have a low-grade virus and a huge mouth ulcer, been trying to work on a presentation but my career now seems a thing of the past and I can't bear to even remember the person I really am. I've wondered if I'll ever be 'me' again.
But then, tonight I arranged to meet my 'sister' at my mum's house (I've been told I mustn't see her alone, for my own safety) and we took her out for a meal, and it was truly brilliant.
She was alert, if repetitive, insisted on getting dressed up (something she hasn't done for over a year) and was wonderfully happy with a social occasion, even though she's only left the house once before in the last six months.
We went to the local pub, she troughed more food than either of us, I talked to her about the past, about my dad and her childhood (my memory is legendary, and it was good to use it for her benefit and see it spark up her own faltering memory) and I reminded her about the wonderful places she's been to and the jaunts I've treated her to (one Boxing Day after my dad died, when I was earning Monopoly money, I got us a chaffeur-driven car, from the Midlands to London where we had lunch at the Savoy River Room, then went to Covent Garden for the matinee performance of Nutcracker, then for tea at the Ritz, then home with the chauffeur! She was in her element). We sang a few old songs tonight, and shared some remembered poetry, and I've come home feeling more easy.
I know that her improvement over the last few days can't last, but while it does, and she's fairly lucid, and really enjoying herself, it's good to make the most of it. Her psychosis wasn't in evidence at all.
It was a great evening.
These moments compensate in part for my loss of personal identity.
I hope that tomorrow you, too, can find something to celebrate in the midst of your very clear and very understandable depression.
All the very best
x