Past Caring...
I sit in this room; it has all the furniture, pictures, worn slippers and unread old newspapers. But how empty does this room feel, it’s silent so quiet, no noise of another.
Time is passing and I am just sitting staring…. Lost.
There was a time when, there was so much to do, that five minutes peace would have been heaven. Now with all the time in the world, I don’t manage to do a thing, how strange.
I have spent ten years caring for another. I have worried and had many anxious heart stopping moments. I’ve spent many hours waiting for medical results, for the powers that be to answer that blessed phone. Hospital visits… have they cared for them properly? Do they realise that tea is what she has in the morning, coffee in the afternoon. That you have to be patient and having a kind smile makes meal times enjoyable? I have waited rain soaked for the bus to take me to have all of my fears answered one way or another.
I have faced my own demons; I never thought I would be able to nurse another. Those powerful sights and smells of a failing body, etched forever in memory.
What now, how do I get out of this room, what other doors along life’s corridor shall I choose to enter, or have chosen for me. I realise I have no direction.
I could go to the room that contains a job, employment. I have not worked for a very long time, I feel worthless and de-skilled. Perhaps I need to recover the sense of me first.
How about the room in the Rose Cottage, I could move, what a challenge that would be, perhaps in time but not now, my memories are here. I can touch them, smell them, hear them.
I could visit friends, go on holiday, spend some time with family. Enjoy life, see the world, do those things I had planned before caring chose me. But I am tired, perhaps later.
Just for now I think staring may be the right thing to do, and connect with the world when it feels right. Oh but my heart wants to be back in the room, the one with laughter, giggles, unwritten friendship, tender touch, shared good times and shared bad times. My head tells me the future is another room full of opportunities may be tomorrow, next week or even next month I will go there…
Jeanette Hook
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
