annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- weekend Friday I went to art group at the recovery centre, which was full and packed and difficult. It was the anniversary of my brother's death and I just felt fragile, as if I could break at any moment, at any thoughtless comment. When it was over I walked a mile into the city centre to catch the end of the children's action for climate change demo. I thought I'd missed it as there was a stream of people carrying placards walking away, but when I arrived at The Level, there was still a really good sized crowd of kids, standing in the rain listening to passionate speakers, cheering and giving me a glimmer of hope for the future. The walk back to my car was hard - I'd have caught a bus if my route had matched, but it didn't so plod plod, wet and wetter. I sat in the car and talked on the phone to my sister-in-law for almost an hour. I always feel I'm a burden, with all my sorrow, but she clearly doesn't feel that. It has been impossible to hold that in my heart. So far. Then to see ED in the care home, to be glad I can still hold her hand, kiss her sweet face, see her eyes meet mine. Except she was asleep again, deeply asleep, so that her whole face was slack in a way I don't often see. I stayed for an hour or two, then came home and slept for hours. Saturday My only commitment was taking grandson out to lunch, but not just round the corner. They live a minute away from loads of bloody cafes and we've gone to a couple of them recently, but that's not what it's about - it'a a bit of granny/grandson time - best with a little drive or walk somewhere - conversations are much easier side by side than face to face when it comes to teenage boys. So a big dither about where we might go - he's fussing as fuck about food - I wanted a country pub lunch but they've all gone upmarket - little wanky mouthfuls for stupid money. In the end Five Guys at the Marina - quite nice but fucking mental potions. I actually managed to say my piece - that his mum is slowly but steadily sliding away and that while I can fully see that a visit to her is not rewarding on any my level, what we want to avoid is years of regret after her death, about not visiting more when he had the chance. As you can imagine, that's one of the top topics for granny chats and was followed by another drive home and long nap. He kept saying thank you to me for saying it Sunday Today. I was going to take ED to concert in the city - with the City Symphony Orchestra and a featured pianist playing Rachmaninov, plus Berlioz Symponie Fantastique and Fingals Cave. She was asleep again, had been all night. I lost it. Lost any capacity to pretend I was OK with being the mother of a daughter who had for many years been my closest pal, but hadn't said anything meaningful for about three years and now is probably sliding down the hill to the bottom I sat in her chair and cried and cried then went and almost bought some v expensive curtains and some Caribbean chicken wings, then sat in her room and cried some more. Not great, I am a bit ashamed but can't think what else I could have done. Came home and watched Queer Eye and want them so much to come and sort me out
1:37 a.m. - 18.03.19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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