Searching for paint tins
The day didn't start well. Well actually it did and that was the problem. I was lulled into a false sense of security so I blame dementia for what followed. Everything was fine when we woke up. The sun was shining, we'd both slept well and Ash was smiling which is always a good way to start the day. Then I blew it. For some reason I thought he'd like to know what I was going to do with my day so told him all about the tins of fence paint in the shed that I was going to take into work so they could use them at one of the nurseries. Which shed? How many tins? What colour? He had no idea what I was talking about even though we'd had a discussion last week over whether they were any good for painting the summer house. We lay in bed with him worrying about where this paint was and what it looked like, even what make it was and I could have kicked myself. However, and I have noticed this a few times recently, by talking calmly to him, taking the blame for the confusion and saying several times that it really didn't matter, he managed to calm himself to the point that I thought he'd forgotten. He hadn't but when we got up he went straight to the shed and found the paint so was happy. It is possible that our lives are now so relaxed that he really is coming to realise that nothing matters too much.
Whatever the reason life is lovely most of the time now and how many people can say that? We have spent so much of the last few years racing around, working hard and rarely relaxing that, regardless of why we've made the changes, the end result has been better than either of us could have predicted on that awful day last December. I recently went onto one the many forums I found at the beginning of all of this. I don't do it often as I find them a little depressing and this particular visit confirmed that feeling. Someone had written about life becoming so much better since their recent diagnosis. At last they knew what was wrong and, as a result, they had given up work, taken up new hobbies and generally relaxed which meant they were far more confident about the future. Most people applauded this point of view but one person pointed out the this was the early stages of dementia and who knew what was going to come next. My feeling is that we never know what's coming and the trick is to make life as good as it can be now, this minute and let the future take care of itself.
Whatever happens to us next I will always remember this summer.
Whatever the reason life is lovely most of the time now and how many people can say that? We have spent so much of the last few years racing around, working hard and rarely relaxing that, regardless of why we've made the changes, the end result has been better than either of us could have predicted on that awful day last December. I recently went onto one the many forums I found at the beginning of all of this. I don't do it often as I find them a little depressing and this particular visit confirmed that feeling. Someone had written about life becoming so much better since their recent diagnosis. At last they knew what was wrong and, as a result, they had given up work, taken up new hobbies and generally relaxed which meant they were far more confident about the future. Most people applauded this point of view but one person pointed out the this was the early stages of dementia and who knew what was going to come next. My feeling is that we never know what's coming and the trick is to make life as good as it can be now, this minute and let the future take care of itself.
Whatever happens to us next I will always remember this summer.
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