Life is sometimes complicated

Christmas is now officially over in our house and this will be my last word on it I promise.  I was very brave during the run up to the festivities and I really thought I had it all under control but, just in case you struggled and felt that you should have been able to cope, I wanted you to know that it's the hardest thing I've had to do so far in this complex relationship I have with dementia.  All those traditions we'd built up together over the past 37 years are now lost; all the shared glances across a room, all the excitement of surprise presents which had been thought about and planned so carefully, all the discussions over favourite parts of the fun and games are no more and, without the real Ash, Christmas was a struggle.  We had good times of course and those times kept me sane but sharing a house with a stranger who has no interest in your well-being is very hard at any time of the year and at Christmas it seemed there was no escape.  So now it's over and I feel already that I'm on the road to recovery.  A walk with a friend tomorrow morning beckons, coffee with yet another friend tomorrow afternoon will lighten my mood and yet another get together later in the week should bring me back up to speed.  Thank goodness for friends is what I say and I have no idea where I would be without them.

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