Sunday is for terrifying little girls; unknown bad hair days and introverts

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Visited my Mum. Always depressing. She was bright and talkative, except we had no idea what she was talking about and often the poor dear was frustrated as no language would come to her. Alzheimer’s.

It’s also exhausting as we keep up a facade of normality and try to give her no hint that she is speaking nonsense. I don’t think she knows anymore. She certainly didn’t recognise Daughter1 who was with me. Petite Fille provided grand entertainment as Mum always loved children, so spending time silently watching her play is enough sometimes. I always leave physically and mentally depleted.

Not about me, though is it? It’s poor Mum who is being cheated of quality of life. Sigh.

Afterwards, we took Petite Fille to the nearby park. She was playing up on the adventure play area when I quietly poked my head around one corner. She shrieked and begged “Don’t do that Grandma!” Of course, I repeated it several times, and she never tired of reenacting her own part. Hopefully, she won’t have nightmares of being chased by a granny tonight! I also didn’t think I was having such a bad hair day. Bad face day? Bad face lifetime? Not of course not, it is me, after all!

We have new neighbours. The third in our three years here. I think they have all the makings of the perfect neighbours. He will retire in four years and they chose a tree change because it can live without people. Introverts! Be still my beating heart! His comment was that they have been here a week and he feels like it has been forever. I think he meant that in the nicest possible way – and that is our feelings too. Hopefully, they will stay longer the eighteen month average of the other two couples. We are actually nice to our neighbours!

Really wanted one of those fruit filled cocktails this afternoon, but we had very little except a bottle of not very good bubbly red and some lychees. Passable. Maybe it needed an umbrella and a flamingo swizzle stick for perfection.


5 thoughts on “Sunday is for terrifying little girls; unknown bad hair days and introverts

  1. My mother’s doctor used to assure me that Mom no longer had the ability to know what was happening to her, as if that would be of comfort. Poor things, I think they do know what is going on, and they also understand there is nothing we or they can do about it. It’s good of you to continue visiting your mother, but I can understand the fatigue and wear it places on you. Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is so mentally exhausting, I feel for you. My mum can’t even talk anymore, just the occasional word, every now and again. I don’t know what she knows anymore, or even who she knows. It’s not much of a life for her and, like you, I always leave depressed and drained. But I try and let it go, to find joy in things after I’ve left her. It sucks.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. My middle daughter is involved in a research project on Alzheimer’s and I’m proud she is because, as you illustrate so movingly here, it is a pitiless disease which robs people of their memory and family friendships and is exhausting for those who have to care for the person affected. My thoughts are with you and your family on this

    Liked by 1 person

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