Wednesday 10 March
The days seem to be whizzing by at the moment and I am struck by an increasingly regular thought. One which has increased as I have gotten older and even more so, I feel, since all of this Coronavirus lockdown thing has been happening.
I appreciate that each day is a gift and say that to the kids and adults how ask me how I am, and how I am so positive and optimistic (seemingly) all of the time. Well, truth be told, I am not like that all of the time – my family will testify to that. I know that it’s probably an over-used line but I really do have moments nowadays when I genuinely feel that.
This year, or parts of it, have felt like a bit of a right-off. Lost to lockdown and disconnected from others, it’s very easy to let the days float by like leaves being blown by the wind. And, I suppose for many, one day may have seemed very similar to the next. I have been fortunate in that school has essentially remained open albeit with fewer pupils and so the possible monotony has never been there. And now, we are all back and some quite surprising positives have come from it.
Some great news from yesterday was that Dad was able to visit Mum in the care home for the first time since well before Christmas (I think). He had to have a test done before he was allowed to see her and his time was limited to one hour, but that’s a fair amount all considered. He reported back to us in a very positive way as is his way, and he was clearly so happy to see her again. But I sensed, and I may be wrong, that he recognised that her condition was that little bit worse since the last time he saw her.
Of course, she has had two trips to hospital in that time having two seizures. Plus, the dementia “hasn’t got any better” as Dad would say, but then he would continue by saying “but it hasn’t got any worse either”.
The Bald Birder 