Sunday, 23 March 2014
I have a bit of a migraine today so things have been all a bit of a blurr. To take the edge off I thought I would stand around in the shade and the breeze, with the hose and wet the grass and the trees and pretend to be a gardener.
The neighbours in this neck of the woods are pretty friendly and Joan walked by and stopped to compliment me on the growth of the star jasmine and say a quick hello to Dog. Apparently this is something she does even if there is no one out wetting the grass, saying hello to dog that is, I don't know about the stopping to chatter, - it is possible.
She told me about the slide down the Alzheimer's ride her husband was on. It did not sound joyful the first time she told me and it certainly did not sound any more so the second time she told me. She told me a story from her youth and it was entertaining to a degree the first time and less so the second time.
She said she was lonely and that there were days and sometimes weeks when she didn't speak at all. I presumed that lively conversation with her hubby was a thing of the past. I was happy to listen and comment while the hose did its best to resurrect the grass.
I am left wondering though what happens when the dreaded A hits the whole family. Who is left looking out for fire hazards and remembering where you live.
This must surely be becoming a very real situation what with the aging population and all. Or maybe this could be the answer to the whole dilemma - 2 or more people living together not remembering each other, or each others stories, they could be simultaneously interesting and interested. They could say mean hurtful things that no one would take to their graves, and so long as safety was covered they could all live happily ever after.
It is a trite idea, and I only mention it because of the terror I feel when I think of it happening to me. An Elliott trait I'm afraid, that some find endearing and others find repugnant, is to make extremely light of any shitty situation.
The selling of 'Programmes' at my dad's funeral is perhaps a reasonable example.
Still hard to believe that I didn't make enough money to retire on, the church was full to pussy's bow.