It’s Mothering Sunday

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Sometimes I’m not sure my sense of humour is appreciated. I was at the Pharmacy a couple of weeks back and while paying for my goods, they tried the old, have you seen these that we have on offer trick. I’m a nice person, I hope, so I looked and said, oh yes they are lovely, but not for me thanks. She said, oh well what about one for your Mum for Mother’s Day and I laughed and said I’m not sure she needs one of those, she’s six feet under. OK so maybe I shouldn’t have but I thought it better to make light of the situation than to just turn around and say my mothers dead. She said I’m really sorry, and I said, don’t be, in the end it was a blessing, she had dementia.

The Fathership and I went to visit her grave yesterday, to leave flowers from my Sister and I. We sat in the car until the rain stopped, typical Norn Irish weather, rain one minute, then sunshine, then hail. On the second sunshine we made a dash for it.

It’s a really beautiful graveyard, but it’s cold, there is always a wind blowing. The snowdrops Dad planted last year have been and gone, but the wreaths that were laid at Christmas still provide a pop of colour as did the addition of the posy we left today.

When we came home I started thinking about what she would have made of this whole pandemic and how we would have coped, not being able to go out and all stuck in the house together. I have to be honest and say I think it would have been a recipe for disaster. The Fathership has not been well either, so I thought about him trying to get her dressed in the morning when he himself was getting breathless from just walking up the stairs. I thought about me and my effin gallstones and who would cook for them, put her to bed or get up in the middle of the night to change her if I was sick too, and I thought, maybe things do happen for a reason.

To all the carers, I can only imagine what you are going through. I know first hand how difficult if can be, and that’s without the addition of a pandemic. You have my admiration and hugs.

When the Dr’s finally saw the Fathership after two weeks and confirmation of a negative COVID test, we were given a letter and sent straight to the emergency department. Being all things COVID, I wasn’t allowed to stay with him, so I went to the car and cried for 45 minutes until I had no tears left, because the last time I had come up the road, to that hospital, at that time of night, it had been for the Motherships final flight and I wasn’t ready to let another one go.

Thankfully 4.5 hours later out he came and we were able to go home. Further tests have been able to tell us he has COPD / Emphysema, so I guess we just have to wait and see where that one takes us.

I’m an introvert, I don’t have a lot to complain about where the new normal is concerned to be honest, I’m more anxious about things returning to a version of the old normal. But in amongst it all, for me, there are things to be grateful for, like the fact my Mother missed this. I’m grateful that she didn’t have to wonder why people stepped away from her hugs. That she didn’t think she wasn’t allowed to go to church anymore, due to it being closed. That she didn’t hate us for keeping her in the house, when there was nothing else we could have done.

That version of my mother is the one who is six feet under.

So, to the Mum who made smiley faces from angel delight and whipped cream, whose perfume I used to smell as I walked up the stairs, to the woman who loved my father and my Sister and I and worked hard to give us a good life. To the woman who was a nurse and a carer herself and who laughed and danced and sang (even if it was out of tune), Happy Mother’s Day. I love you, and I miss you.

Here she goes again ffs……

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The picture above has no relevance to this post whatever, I just liked it, so here it is….enjoy?

So there it is, and here I am, struggling a little it has to be said with the new blocks and paragraphs system for writing, but I’m typing away like a good un and hoping that by some miracle of modern something or other it will look ok when both you and I have to read it.

It’s that time of the year again. WordPress will very shortly tell me that I have reached another anniversary, this time 8 years I believe. This is perhaps the longest I have stuck at anything, with the exception of my job, although I am not sure that you could call writing perhaps one or two posts a year sticking at something. I miss it, writing that is, I miss it a lot. I also miss the way my old brain worked and my sense of humour but age and life has got in the way of both, so I’ve just got to suck it up and adapt.

Usually around this time I also have mental conversations with myself where I discuss whether to carry on or give up, questioning if it is worth paying for domains that I rarely use. Sometimes I think it isn’t and I consider leaving and then I log into the app and I go to the reader and I catch up on all the things I have missed and I see all the people that I love and I think, I cant go, not yet anyway.

A couple of weeks back I did just that and I logged in and I found people I had not spoken to in such a long time, and then I read posts from a few of the people who have been with me on this journey pretty much from the start, albeit with a few breaks in between and it was like someone had given me the warmest hug, it made my heart so happy to read their words.

I’m never going to be the world’s greatest blogger, and nor would I want to be, it’s like a full time job at the start ffs. What I do want to be is here, as much as I can. If I only write two posts a year, then so be it. If no one reads what I write, that’s fine too, it’s for me anyway, but as I have detailed in countless posts before, that is something I lose sight of.

So maybe I will stick around for another year. I might even try and get back into this, I just need to be more disciplined with time by making sure there is space in there somewhere to write, because it’s good for the soul.

I hope you are all well, and I hope to see you soon :)

Saying a proper goodbye

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I feel like every time I log on here and start to write these days, it is always about coronavirus, but really, what else is there to talk about. I mean life carries on as normal, but at the end of the day things are not really normal for any of us at the minute.

So what prompted this post you ask yourself, well, it was actually my reading of a story on the news, a sad story about a couple who had passed away from Coronavirus, within 12 hours of each other. I can only imagine the loss and grief their family must be experiencing. They like so many others will find themselves in the situation of not being able to celebrate the life of their loved ones as they normally would, in the company of their family and friends.

I suppose the line that resonated with me the most however was the fact they were not going to be able to hold a wake and hear all the stories that others had to share about the couples life.

wake is a social gathering associated with death, usually held before a funeral. Traditionally, a wake takes place in the house of the deceased

Here in Northern Ireland, wakes are a thing, I can remember a few times the Fathership coming home a little worse for wear as we would call it, in other words drunk, after having raised perhaps one too many glasses out of respect for the dearly departed.

When my Mum passed away, our house became an open one to accept the many people who cared enough to come and pay their respects. We were given, love, kindness and food in abundance.

In the four years prior to my Mum’s passing and as the dementia got worse, while she was still my Mum, she was not the same person through no fault of her own. When living with and dealing with that situation every day, it was hard to remember the person she was before, because like with the coronavirus, we had to adjust to a new normal.

This is where the wake and the stories that were told became so important, because through listening to others and their memories of what she was like, it helped to erase some of the bad memories of the preceding years and replace them with good ones, reminding me of the person she was before.

There was laughter and there were tears, but it was a nice in between before the end of a long road. So I am sorry for this family and that due to this situation that we find ourselves in they will not be able to experience this small sense of comfort like we could.

We’re in the second wave that they kept warning us about and its seems scarier in some ways than the first. I know that face masks and socially distancing are an issue for some and there are very many theories circulating about the legitimacy of it all, but for me it’s simple, people are dying, so we can’t do nothing.

I hate wearing a mask, but I think of all the people in the emergency services who have to wear one every day, who despite being as worried as we probably are, turn up for work every day to care for the sick. To keep us safe and to stop us dying. So my wearing a mask is a small matter compared to that.

I think about my family, my friends, especially those who have lost loved ones during this time and my work colleagues and that’s also reason enough.

And I think about this family and their loss too, and the fact that they cannot share stories and memories with the ones they love.

That should be a good enough reason for us all.

It’s the Sunday before the Monday

Hello there, well I wish I had something really exciting to say or tell you, but I don’t so….eh…hello :)

I’m not sure what it is that brought me here tonight, I had a little time to kill and a cup of coffee in my hand and I thought why not.

The last time I wrote we were in the midst of the COVID pandemic, and now almost four months later we still are, with what looks like no end in sight.

This time around I actually know people who have been unfortunate enough to have tested positive and I think it was a rough week to ten days, that said, thankfully they have come out the other side, many others were not so fortunate.

Life for me has pretty much carried on, work still has to be done, along with the general day to day of looking after the house. You get so used to being inside that it’s almost easy sometimes to forget there is a whole world outside of these four walls. The introvert in me has coped not too bad with the situation, but even I have found that I need to get out once in a while, walk in the sunshine and smell the sea air, it really does blow away the cobwebs.

The hardest part of this for me has been for friends who in the middle of all of this have lost parents or loved ones. Not being able to attend funerals and give someone a hug is heart breaking. Not being able to be there to help them celebrate a life lived, or offer condolences, well it’s just not the same via text message is it.

The other end of the spectrum and stories I have heard are of expectant parents, who cannot enjoy the experiences of scans as a couple. Women having to attend appointments on their own while their partners miss out. All those little firsts, that can never be replayed.

I never in my lifetime thought I would see anything like this. I hope once it is all over, that we never do again.

But there is a lot to be thankful for, I am here and well and typing and you are here and hopefully well and reading.

I have missed you :)

I feel like I should…..

…..write, but I don’t know what it is that I want to write about.

You see shouldn’t this be the perfect opportunity, it’s not like I can go out, hmm, not that I did that much anyway. In some ways lock down is perfect for an introvert like me, other ways not so much, I’m genuinely starting to miss looking at other faces because at the minute the only ones I see most days are the Fatherships and my own, which now my hair has taken on a life of it’s own is a scary fecking sight I tell ya!

I hate shopping just now too, but still when it comes time to take the weekly trip for the groceries there is a little bit of me wants to punch the air and after about 10 minutes of freedom I’m all giddy and stuff from the high of seeing the outside world!

But there are limits to the freedom, because as much as I joke, there is a seriousness to all of this, and there have to be limits. I have an 81 year old with Asthma to consider and as much as sometimes I want to murder him as I swiftly move towards the menopause, I love him dearly.

This situation is not ideal, we are in unprecedented times, so they keep telling me, but we have to stop thinking about ourselves and start thinking of the bigger picture. We are staying at home to save lives. That’s very important, because too many have been lost already.

So I shop and I come home. I no longer browse or idle. I follow a list and I move on.
I thank the people stacking shelves as I shop, because they are working to keep us fed and I tell them to take care, because they matter. All those key workers do, every one of them matters, so we should stay at home.

One day, hopefully, this will be over and life will return to normal, albeit maybe a new one.

My friend will tell her daughter then when she was born she wasn’t able to see anyone for the first three months of her life. We will always ensure that we have an extra supply of toilet roll. We will hug people, and reconnect, sharing stories of how we survied the life in lockdown. Families will remember their loved ones and celebrate lives cut short.

None of us will forget.

 

I am Seven

It happened sometime in March, and unlike real birthdays, it’s a low enough number not for me to be concerned about, or is it, because in terms of blogging I think seven is probably quite good.

That said, some could argue that I have not actually been blogging and they would be absolutely correct, in 2019 I wrote only seven posts, can we class that as one for each birthday.

In terms of writing, there is still not an issue with regards to wanting to write, because I do all the time, I just never seem to get around to it, something else gets in the way, I am lazy, there are very many reasons, all with their own percentage.

This blog birthday finds the world in ‘unprecedented times’. I have heard that phrase so much in the last six weeks. It’s a time when I should be writing, documenting what is going on, lest I forget, but I think because it is so unusual, it is unlikely that any of us will forget, or should forget the lives that have been lost and the families affected by this pandemic. Neither should we forget all of the key workers who are continuing to do their jobs in the these difficult and unusual of circumstances.

So this birthday, we shall just quietly celebrate that I am seven. Trust me, I’ve had the usual yearly wrangles of should I stay or should I go and for this year anyway I have decided to stay. Who knows, I might even write eight posts, but don’t hold me to it ffs, or we could all be let down.

I hope all my favourite eejits are well. If you are reading, then thank you for still being here :)

Pay it forward

I worked on Sunday, I needed to, to calm my anxiety brain and the million things it had to do.

After that there were groceries to get, Fridays trip had seen a fair few empty shelves. For some reason the supermarket is always busy on a Sunday, the aisles are packed with people and it can be difficult to navigate and side step the trollies.

On entering the shop I went in search of a basket, this was after all a bits and pieces shop and not a full one. There was only one left and both myself and an older lady made a beeline for it. She had this look on her face, both quizzical but also ready for a battle should the need arise. I reached the spot first, most likely because of my longer strides and of course the fact I needed a basket. I bent down, picked it up and handed it to her and said you use this one and I will go and find another. That wasn’t what she expected at all and the smile I received warmed my heart. I had no intention of taking the basket, my longer strides, even with a dodgy leg carried me on and I was able to find another one.

I like doing things like that, small little things that can change people’s perception in an instant.

Shopping done I headed to the next store, where only having two things to get I anticipated it would be a quick trip in and out, but it was busy there too. I approached the till and the lady in front of me clearly was doing her weekly shop, but thems the breaks, folks gotta eat. So I wanted in line for my turn, only for her to turn to me and say that as I only had a couple of things that I should go ahead. I asked her if she was sure and when she said yes, I thanked her and went about the business of buying.

You see that’s karma right there, the universe paying it forward and it made me feel good. It made me smile.

So do a simple thing every day, it might not mean much to you, but it could mean the world to someone else. Even something as simple as a smile.

Taking Pictures

When I hurt my leg seven years ago, there were lots of little bits and pieces that I lost, like confidence when walking, being able to master stairs without having to hold on and the ability to run, not that I ever did much of that to start with unless it was to catch a train.

Learning to counter my knee having a life of its own was also a bit of a tester, it puts a whole new meaning to knee jerk reaction, when it decides to buckle of its own accord. But I adapted and manage, I’m used to the daily pains, sometimes even forgetting about them because its now become part of life.

The thing I missed the most was photography, simply because I was not able to scramble to some of the places I had been able to before. I kind of lost the joy in it because standing shots became a little boring. I put the camera away and on days out just used my phone instead, but often times in my head I was still mentally framing shots and analysing colours.

I love my Nikon D40, thanks to my Sisters very kind gift it is the best camera I have ever owned. I love the feel of it in my hands and the satisfying click of the shutter when it captures what my eye can see. It’s been eveywhere with me and captured some amazing memories, but over time the picture quality has started to change and it doesn’t seem to record colours as good as it once did.

I decided to purchase a new one, opting for something a little smaller and more compact. A couple of weeks ago the Fathership and I went for a little trip. The gallstones mean I don’t like travelling too far away from home for fear of the dreaded pains, but on this particular day we decided to go to the Castle Gardens in Antrim.

Relatively flat ground meant the walking was not too taxing for the leg and the tiltable screen on the camera made slightly funkier shots more possible too. It’s a beautiful place and it reignited my love of photography as I felt the familiar buzz of being able to capture what was around me.

I was pleased with the pictures I took, despite the fact it was my first trip out with and using the camera, well, you can see for yourself, I’ve included some shots below.

The fact that winter is fast approaching means there will not be too many more opportunities until next year, but who knows what the lovely autumnal colours will bring when the bookwork is done and out of the way freeing up a little more time.

Throwing Stones

What are the official timings of Summer, isn’t it weird that I don’t know that, I probably should. Be right back, I’m going to Google it……

…Hi, so apparently Summer ends on the 23rd September, so I’m kind of glad I checked because I was going to make an arse of myself by saying that it ended next week!

So, lets start again. Summers going to end soon, but it already feels like it’s over as I watch the brand new batch of children prepare for the first days of the new school year. It’s been a bit of a mixed bag weather ways but at the minute there seems to be more sunshine than rain, so that’s a good thing right?

I’ve not been too far travelled this summer, mainly because I have been sick on and off. I finally, have hopefully got to the bottom of my 5 hour bouts of pain, that have been ongoing for the last year, I have gallstones….little feckers.

Most days now I am nauseous and sore but I’m still standing so that’s good and any anxiety I had about my impeding appointment with a surgeon, when it arrives has now passed as while in the midst of a bout of excruciating pain I often contemplate opening myself up to whip it out.

Who’d have thought that such a small collection of tiny things could cause such pain, and they do, oh boy they really do. It’s time to go my lovilies, it really is, because I cannot put up with you or the fear of the pain that your partying in my insides causes for much longer.

So I’ve been miserable, even more so than normal. Along with that there’s a higher than normal spike in anxiety and mild depression brought on by an over thinking brain that cannot seem to release the past, can I blame that on the gallstones too?? Probably not eh.

Work has been pretty non stop too, but thats been good because it takes my mind of the sickness except for the day I was hanging over my desk throwing up into my bin and crying with pain, that was good fun…….not!!

But it’s all good, it can’t last forever, hopefully it will all be sorted at some stage, until then I’ll just have to keep calm and carry on regardless.

Still there are positives in life, there always are and I’m actively trying to look for them. Right now it’s the sunlight on the showers and the smell of dinner cooking, the fact it’s the end of the hump day which brings us one step closer to the weekend, even if it is going to be a busy one.

Hope all is well with you eejits, what’s been happening?

Forgotten Details

There are many things that happen in our lifetime, some good and some bad. For me personally, I seem to be able to remember the momentous occasions, usually, because of the way my brain works, the bad ones. But there are also milestones too, not necessarily amazingly good things, but times that meant something or dates that had significance.

It seems though that as I get older the small but still important things become more faded, I find myself relating dates to before my leg injury and after, because that is a date I never seem to forget.

I recently found an old journal, it was not detailed descriptions, but more snapshots of where I was at that particular time. It jogged my memory and brought back a few names and locations that have long been forgotten. It was fun to read, but also difficult because it made me realise that my anxiety issues have been with me for longer than I thought.

Blogging for me was never about sharing all the details of my life, I tended to write when there was a lot going on in my head and I needed to clear some space. This means that I didn’t always note the smaller less important things and now I am beginning to wish I had.

It made me think about whether this is something I need to change in order to help me remember. Is my old lady brain going to progress from more than asking myself what I went into a specific room for, because that in itself is extremely frustrating sometimes believe me.

There has to be a benefit of noting down important things, like when and how I met friends and also sometimes how I lost them. Important places I visited and the memories that became associated with them. Losses and gains, they are all important in their own way to form the foundations of a life lived and also perhaps to remind my brain on its bad days that there were gains, not just losses.

I haven’t come to any firm decisions yet, but it’s something I might quite like to try.

Hey brain, here’s to making memories and actually remembering them.

What about you, do you journal to remember ?