Throughout my life I’ve had a few stressful, very stressful times, but the last few days have perhaps been among the worst.
Now, you’d think I’d have learned years ago that you never really know anyone; that you cannot possibly know what goes on in someone’s head. So why does it come as a surprise to discover that someone is self-centred and self-absorbed and harbouring real resentment against me? Answers on a postcard, please. I’ve tried to let go of my feelings; I’ve had to because there’s been so much more going on, but I’ve found it very distressing.
Thursday brought a couple of hours of blessed relief as I had a catch-up lunch with one of my oldest friends, dear M. We are very close, in spite of only meeting up three or four times a year and she’s one of a diminishing number of people that I can be totally honest with and tell anything. She’s been taking care of her parents, who are both in their 90s, and so she’s completely understood just what I’ve been through with looking after Auntie, who has Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. Auntie’s know for a couple of weeks that she’s going into a care home, but she thinks it’s just while I’m away. This has obviously been playing on her mind, because she’s been very agitated and agressive, which isn’t like her as she’s always been the gentlest of souls.
This last week has been exceptionally trying and yesterday, she went into the home. I couldn’t stay to see her go. I said ‘I have to go and get a few last-minute bits. See you when I come back from my holidays, Auntie,” that’s the truth, of course, I’ll go and see her. She returned my kiss and said, “Have a lovely time and thank you very much for all you’ve done for me. I know I’ve been hard to look after.” I walked away and out the door with tears streaming down my face. I feel as if I’ve abandoned her, even though the decision that she stays in the home wasn’t made by me and certainly wasn’t mine to make.
On Tuesday I’d come home from work to find Auntie sound asleep and the carer who was sitting with her crying. She said that Auntie had been lucid and had said how she feared being put into a care home permanently because her little boy, who’d died of cancer aged 3, had been born in the house and she felt that if she was moved out she would be losing all ties and connections with him. At that, the carer and I cried together.
I’ve always said that I want to live to be a hundred and I still do. But only if I can take care of myself. I am sure that the care home where Auntie’s gone is fabulous and that they will take care of her. But how sad that she hasn’t been able to see out her days in the place that’s been her home since 1952.
Tomorrow I leave for Antigua, for Avocado Cottage, where I am combining holiday with work. My dear friend V is coming to join me for a week and then I shall be writing like crazy to catch up with my schedule and (whisper it) I’ll also be working on the pilot of Maisie and Em. I don’t think I’ve ever, ever, been in as much need for a bit of R & R as I am now. I can’t wait to sit on the veranda in my rocking chair which is where I’ll be writing my next blog.
Couldn’t resist starting Singles and Spice. I’m hooked, so you’ll have to get Singles all the way done quickly. Hope all goes well for Masie and Em. Have a good rest we’ll meet up on your return, xx
I’ll be typing as quickly as I can!! Glad you’re hooked and sorry to hear about your dad xxx