A Photo a Day Challenge 5/365

Day 5 - free choice but this time list 3 reasons why you have chosen it.

I wish you could know I was thinking of you
I want to remember the happy times - now so so long ago
I'm so frightened of receiving "that" phone-call

A bit of a morbid one this. I'm playing the waiting game today. I lost my mother to Alzheimers about 5 years ago. After a decade of declining memory (which began when she was only 57) - that was how long ago she finally failed to recognize me. Instead I instantly became "Who's that woman?" and the full focus of her hatred and temper on a daily basis, culminating with her attacking me with a knife. It was at this point 3 years ago, that we knew we could no longer care for her. She wasn't just a danger to herself, she was a danger to all around her.

Since that time, I really thought I'd come to terms with it - and thought I'd gone through the stages of grieving. I only realised yesterday that I'd missed one big stage. I've done the anger, depression, acceptance - the one thing I've never done is cry.

Yesterday, when I received the call from the home that Mum is fading fast - was like a sledgehammer blow to the heart. She's stopped eating and drinking and it is a matter of days until she's finally at peace. I welcome this so much I can't begin to tell you. Alzeihmer's is a disease you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. A shell of a body left when the person you knew is long gone.

So today I'm just waiting for a phone call. What I'm finding hardest to cope with is the knowledge that I am totally unable to say goodbye. She will be dying, lost in her own little world that we have no knowledge of. A world in which she was vehemently adament she had no daughter. A world in which she hated me with a determination I will never be able to understand. A world which held terror and fear when she was last able to show any expression.

Dear Mum - In the last week I've sat and held your hand, stroked your face - tried to remember the old songs you used to sing to me as a child. I wavered a bit, but got through them all. You haven't known I was there. I hope with all my heart that you can drift off to a place where you are finally at peace. If there are any thoughts remaining; please, please, please let them be happy ones, without fear or pain.

I do know how much you loved me once. The terrible illness which stripped it all away - I know you had no control over. I only wish you could know just how much I love you.

At some point, I will be writing a lengthy piece about Alzheimers. It's something I need to do, as it's been an horrific part of my life for so long. I hope it will be cathartic.

Autumn Giveaway Time

I'm more than a trifle ticked off with Blogger. My post of yesterday has vanished into thin air during the day - and I haven't been near a computer. It was the first time I'd entered a post using the new interface, and I was liking the way it worked. Shame I didn't try a short post first, but no...... dibble decided to do a long article didn't she! Sniff. Back to the old Blogger me thinks. Anyways... I was thinking that it's been such a dismal few days - why not think of something to brighten the mood. Why not have a little giveaway? Trying to be a little different - I've come up with a little competition. It's quite simple....... How many buttons in the jar? I've no idea myself, so it will be interesting to find out. To give you something on which to base your guess, I can tell you I am able to hold the little jar comfortably in one hand. Also I have used a few of the buttons so the jar isn't quite full. So.... What do y

Shabby Chic? Definitely Shabby!

I did say I'd share my DIY disaster with you...... Brace yourselves - you may need sunglasses: Snort! When I started the makeover I can assure you this wasn't my intention. I had a 70's dressing table that was a nice shape, but a vile wood. I thought I would transform it by painting it fuchsia to match my bedroom. 10 hours later (2 coats undercoat, 3 topcoat) it was looking good. Until the top coat starting to flake off before my eyes. I could have cried - indeed I think I did. Since then it's been sitting in the bedroom annoying me. It's too heavy to lift out on my own, and anyways I've nothing else to replace it with. The thought of starting to paint it again doesn't bear thinking about. So in a DIY frenzy, I attacked it with wire wool. I think I got a bit carried away! The result is something that gives a whole new meaning to shabby chic. However, at least it looks intentional and boldly scruffy. Anyone that dares to question my

Don't get Shirty!

My blog posts have been lacking the last few weeks. This is due to moving home and trying to sort out the chaos. One of the things required was that hubby thin down his clothing, or there would be no room for any of mine in the fitted wardrobes. At the last count he had well over a hundred shirts. Ridiculous. Under strict instructions to free up half the wardrobe space for me, he set to with bin bags, to turf some out for the charity shops. With a large selection of shirts ousted, I started looking at the fabrics and wondered if I could make use of them myself. There's a surprising amount of fabric in a mans shirt, particularly an XL one. After cherry picking the ones that were all cotton and nice fabrics, I sat down and scratched my head for inspiration. My first of two makes is this pillow. When I began I had no real vision of what it was going to look like. I just knew that I wanted to use some of the front pockets, and make a feature of a cuff or two. After

Microbio23 August 2011 at 15:59
Anytime you wish :))
Sarah 23 August 2011 at 17:16
Hugs from someone thats at a stage behind you with an older relative, I'm no longer recognised but thankfully my mum is.
Cille23 August 2011 at 17:35
Not so many words but a big giant hug instead.... My FIL is fading away fast too and it is a rough time here at our house. Luckily he knows us and are somewhat happy to see us, but the desire to live is long gone and overshadows everything else.
Cindy Sharp23 August 2011 at 23:06
I wish I could help....

There is an Alzheimer's quilt project. They have some amazing quilts in the collection. I'll have to try and find it for you.
Cindy Sharp23 August 2011 at 23:09
http://www.alzquilts.org/paq.html. Check it out.
Lynne24 August 2011 at 01:11
My heart cries for you. *hugs*

My maternal grandmother had Alzheimers; her behaviour was bizarre but I only visited; my mother, her only child, lived with it daily.

My dad passed away last year, my mum (aged 77) lives alone. I worry - they say it's heriditary - but I am 550km away and can do nothing except believe her friends when they tell me they are watching her.
carrie24 August 2011 at 10:22
Hugs, Jan. xxx
Teresa24 August 2011 at 19:56
A beautiful and moving tribute.
Anonymous29 August 2011 at 01:27
wow what a brave and moving post. What is there to say except that you did all you could, and that there are people there for you.

love and healing in abundance to you X
search engine marketing31 August 2011 at 08:04
Really it's an awesome blog. Some things in here I have not thought about before. Thanks for the encouraging words.

Jan May

Search This Blog