I’ve received a message from an old friend, C. I say an old friend but I haven’t actually seen her for ten years or so. We’ve kept in touch, intermittently, via social media over the last decade, following each other’s lives at a distance. So much has changed. In 2004, when she and I were training together, we were both young – well, younger in my case – and relatively care-free. So much has changed since then and it looks as if life might be changing again for C.
C is one of the many people, some I know or have known, someone I’ve met online, who’ve given me support since Mum’s diagnosis. Support comes in many shapes and sizes but most often it’s a line in response to a blog post, or a short message. I’ve written before about how much that support means, how it tempers the feelings of loneliness which can come to all whose lives are affected by dementia.
Now C is one of the many thousands who needs that support. It seems as if dementia is touching her family. She told me it’s the hardest thing she’s ever had to deal with. C – you’re not alone.
I was hoping to start a new month by going to see Mum today but the care home has been closed over the weekend by a bout of sickness. So, there’ll be no stories of our duets in this post. No Pickin’ a Chicken, or Kickin’ a Chicken as Mum now prefers to sing. Instead, a photo or two, taken by the staff which show Mum as she often is, smiling and content. This isn’t the life Mum had envisaged for herself or the one I’d hoped to be sharing with her in her late 70s. But it’s her life and we’ll do all we can to celebrate that.