Monday, 6 August 2007

Still there

Should summer blogging be different as An Unreliable Witness pondered. Should we do it at all? Well I think so, if the mood takes you. And there are plenty of people still reading. Here, I've decided to continue recreating Shropshire because life here is very difficult at the moment. My Gran has senile dementia and may be going into a home imminently. This has brought on a whole heap of emotional responses, having to be managed amid trying to be sensible and ensure that she is looked after well if she does decide to move.

Back at the cottage, the kitchen was simple and cosy...




We quickly felt at home (I am famous for leaving mugs everywhere)...



There were some beautiful wrought iron fireplaces, no doubt produced locally about 100 or so so years ago...



And a back door that opened on to chickens and pasture. The farm dog would wander in to say hello on occasion



I thought a lot about my Gran whilst there. The cottage had a feel to it that takes me back to the house my mum grew up in. Same smells, lack of white goods, no TV. Just books and games. It was great.

6 comments:

fluttertongue said...

I'm sorry you're having to go through this - especially when it's stiflingly hot. I've worked in a home for people with dementia and Alzheimers and it was a truly wonderful place. Being an outsider though is hugely difficult to being a family member. The residents' candidness and lack of social restrictions I found liberating but if somebody I had known before was affected in the same way I would have a very difficult time dealing with it. Good luck with finding an appropriate home, if that's what you decide upon and I hope things get less emotionally demanding soon. x

seahorse said...

All I know is that I left part of my memory of my Gran back at that cottage. It was her era, her environment. It felt comforting remembering some of the best times we had in a setting totally of her time. The way ahead is uncertain, and she is not herself much of the time these days. But as I have raged about people not accepting me, now the same acceptance has to be offered, with love.

Elizabeth McClung said...

I still think summer blogging worthwhile. It sounded like you came to some sort of peace with your memories at the cottage. I know that the process is difficult and want to wish you strength without sounding odd or smarmy.

talj said...

What a peaceful places this sounds! I love your photos too, I am sure you had some time to relax and unwind at the cottage. I hope it was enough to help you through the difficult time with your Gran {{HUGS}} x

cusp said...

I haven't had the opportunity to drop by at yours lately: busy at Cuspland too with school hols and relatives staying over.

That cottage sounds a wonderful retreat and a good place to savour the memories of your grandma. Both my father and my partner's mother had Alzheimer's, so I do have some appreciation of the turbulent emotions such a diagnosis brings forth. I also used to specialise in arts work with people with dementia and it was fascinating.

There are some wonderful books which can enable you to get a better perspective on the processes surrounding dementia --- both for the sufferer and carers. If you'd like to know more than do e-mail me.

Hope this latest break is as lovely as the first.

seahorse said...

Elizabeth: Yes, I think I did. When you are letting go of someone you have a burning need to find traces of them, and you find those traces through your senses.

Talj: It was so beautiful it would have been hard not to feel healing on some level. It was very healing.

Cusp: Thanks for the recognition of how turbulent it can be. As Fluttertongue observed, people with Alzheimer's can be fascinating, liberated, all sorts of things. I too have had professional experience of researching those with dementia and Alzheimer's. But as you probably know, boy is it different when it's your own family. There just isn't that objective fascination or detachment. Some of the books you mentioned may help us get a handle on things, so thanks enormously.