I’m doing better. Maybe the antidepressants. Maybe the acceptance that I have to get through a process – I’m not sure.
This morning my Granddaughter arrIved on the doorstep, full of life at 7.20am. It’s a cold start but the underfloor heating has kicked in and the kitchen is cozy and warm.She’s learnt how to make herself a hot chocolate and sits contentedly on a bar stool while I make porridge, chatting about her Christmas list. I’ve promised a riding hat, she’d like a pink or green silk.
Hettie is last up, she stretches; we both laugh at her doggy Pilates. There’s downward dog and cat stretch, before demanding breakfast with a single yap.
We’ve a bit more time than usual to fill before walking to school, so we play Mastermind and Partyblock, – well it makes a change from UNO. She wins again of course, despite my best efforts, breakfast club at Grandma’s is more important than she realises to me.
The copper beech had changed dramatically over half term, the deep burgundy canopy now varied shades of copper and as the leaves gently fall thinning her gown studding the grass with bronze. Last week I saw only mess, today I can appreciate the beauty. Each leave the exact colour of strands of my granddaughter’s hair.
We’re a bit late setting off to school, muffled in winter coats and hats for the first time. Winter is coming, it seems almost impossible only a few weeks ago we’d have been setting out wearing teeshirts.The transition between seasons seems very short this year.
Hettie likes being back in the routine, and I have a purpose to get out of bed, something I need just now. I love my roles as Mum, Sister, Grandma but have completely forgotten who I am.
Working out want you want in the future is a hard. How do you get much more of a sense of meaning and fulfilment when your world has changed so dramatically in the last six months? How do you become happier and like yourself more? How do you change in the right way? I have to understand what is really going on in my life.
Big questions and at the moment I have no answers, my previous strategies haven’t worked, being constantly busy is just a mask but not doing enough is lonely and boring. Getting past okay and making the most of the potential I’ve left is important. Ken was cheated by life, I owe it to him to make the best of mine.
Weirdly I’ve just in the last few minutes had two hands reach out. One from Dementia Forward the other from the wife WhatsApp group from Ken’s nursing home. Not sure exactly how it makes me feel, I suppose it’s proof I haven’t been forgotten. Both say nice things, but basically I only did my best. Maybe the making a difference is the bit that’s missing.
