The urge to say something to my soon-to-be-ex wife has been there for a while; the urge, after all this time, to finally accept my part in the slow, painful death of our marriage; to sympathise with her for having to put up with the obdurate, unemotional, uncommunicative man with whom she shared a home… Read More »
Have you been bad? Is that why you’re here, lying over a pile of pillows on my bed, ropes binding your wrists and ankles, waiting.
I stay in Mum’s room when I go to spend time with my Dad. It’s a small room in a small house, a new build retirement place. Like the rest of the house, it’s cluttered in that way that down-sized old peoples houses are often cluttered. a crowded jumble of miss-matched furniture, pictures and nic-naks.
I knew I had to write that last post immediately. My newly discovered sense of compassion for myself was a fish that had often been glimpsed in the water, but had never previously been landed, and then suddenly, last Friday, there it was, flapping about in the bottom of the boat, sure to jump over… Read More »
When I started seeing a therapist eighteen months ago, it was with the hope that I might be able to address my insomnia, although choosing that path was a recognition that insomnia was, for me at least, the symptom rather than the disease, and that my stress and unhappiness were what I really needed help… Read More »
No, not me! Well; in truth, I am a bit grumpy just now, but this post isn’t about me, its about my father. He’s definitely grumpy; sometimes very grumpy, even downright miserable. Of course, he has every reason to be: a hip operation causing mobility problems, shortness of breath, a malfunctioning heart, problems with his… Read More »
I saw my mum today. First time in the two months since Dad broke his hip. First time since she went into the nursing home. It’s only a few hundreds yards from their house, but Dad hasn’t been able to get there to see her yet. That saddens me because I think he’s putting it off.
“Say three things about yourself, one of which is untrue,” was the instruction. I nearly died in an avalanche. I nearly died in a car accident. I nearly died flying a plane. The first of these was a truth and I’ve decided to write about it today.
“Single Subject” is the theme for this week’s Sinful Sunday. I wasn’t going to post, but I found myself deep in my old photos and a picture of my arse popped up. I zoomed in a bit and here it is:
I haven’t done one of my occasional “Big Man Does The Chores” posts for a while. The truth is, I haven’t done any kind of post for a while.
I wasn’t going to do.a sinful Sunday this week; somehow it seemed the wrong thing to be thinking about while I’m down here looking after my poor old mum.
As I said in my previous post, I have recently found myself hiding from things, from real life, binge watching series on Netflix, Amazon or the BBC. There have been a few since I went into lockdown on my own, and a couple of weeks ago I started Mad Men, the slick 60’s set drama… Read More »