No words for this week

Well it’s been a week… a week that I guess I knew would happen at some time but still managed to be a shock. A week in which my Dad has ended up seriously ill in hospital… a week in which I have had to find my mum a place in a care home. A week in which I sat in the sister’s office listening to news that I didn’t want to hear and then having to come home and tell my mum. I don’t know what will happen next … it’s all still very much a waiting game.

I’m not ready to start analysing my feelings. I have had to shut them away to some extent so that I can concentrate on helping my mum with her care and with the decisions that need to be made. I will have to save feeling for later.

There have been a few things which have struck me this week… the first is friendship. My parents have such caring and good friends who have been ringing and offering help all week. Some of them they have known for years. My parents are well loved. And my friends – one looking after Pretzel and my cats – oh and the hamster. Others texting sending their love. And one disappointing me I guess – but I have learnt not to push; not to take what isn’t freely given. And others I haven’t told because I don’t want to keep saying the words.

The staff on the ward have been wonderful. The NHS is much blamed and maligned but the nurses are amazingly caring people. And the consultant is doing the very best he can to give my dad the best hope possible. I also appreciate his honesty.

I have always been awe struck by how my dad has cared for my mum – putting her first and doing everything for her. This week as my brother and I have shared the caring doing it together and individually I have learnt just how tiring it can be. And my Dad must have felt unwell for a while but carried on regardless…

I have been surprised by how much I miss my home – my life. I miss my girls, my animals. I miss my cats curling up on my lap and my early morning Pretzel walks. I miss chatting with my girls. I missed going to the Buddhist meeting last night. I feel a strong sense of disconnection and a longing to be at home if only for a day or two. I guess I just want some “normal”. Some time where I’m not having to deal with wheelchairs and personal care; some time when I’m not having to help my mum make big decisions. Some time when I can start to process everything.

So this week has been about suffering. About the probable ending of a life my mum and dad had together. Impermanence. Sadness.