Day seven of nine
Day seven of nine

 dementia stories

s0me0ne Wordplay. Horseplay. Foreplay.
Autoplay OFF   •   10 days ago
When does a life cease to be a life worth living? Some questions are just too hard... Part eight in this series. Won't pretend I didn't struggle with this piece.

Day seven of nine

[Please excuse the lack of imagery on this one.]




Age has not just caught up.

It has overtaken.

And the conundrum of when (if) does a life cease to be a life worth living is fucking with my head.

The elderly one who seems to be suffering with more than I can cope with.

Is not my mother.

It is my sister's dog

Just my sister's dog.

Me. Mum. Her dog. And this dog. Have been something of an odd quartet this past week.

I have had responsibility for the three of them.

Each has been a challenge in their own particular way.

But I have also learnt from each of them. And each has made me smile.

My sister's dog has been the most challenging. There have been less smiles.

He has fretted over the absence of my sister.

To the point of illness.

Which I've had to clean up.



This. Has felt burdensome.

And I look at him.

And everything looks hard.

I don't know if he's feeling pain.

But it looks like it.

I don't know if he's feeling sadness.

But it looks like it.

And I can't help but ask myself, would it be kinder...

I hate myself for asking this.

Because I realise that at some point.

Someone, feeling similarly burdened, similarly philosophical, making similar observations, may ask a similar question about my mother.

And I will want to punch that person in the face.

I'm sure if my sister was aware of my feelings about her dog.

She would want to punch me in the face, too.

And I realise I have been blessed this past week with the simplicity of the time I have had with my mother.

Because it has been joyful.

It has been delightful.

It has been easy.

But I'm conscious.

Mileage may vary.

There will be times when it will be hard.

For many, there are times when it is hard.

Every day.

And I don't really know how that feels. Or even have any idea about how that is going to feel.

So I'm just going to park it.

As context.

To draw upon another time.

At a time, hopefully, as far away into the future, as it can possibly be.

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