Mr Hsg is going to drive me to London, drop me off at my daughters house and return back to the boat to spend Christmas with the cats! He struggles with Christmas, and says he feels ‘awkward’ celebrating in the company of my daughter (or friends). I understand how he feels as it is the same when I am with unfamiliar people. I miss being with my daughter, and Christmas for us is about cooking the dinner together, sitting eating and enjoying the day. We are close and I know that it is hard for others to break into that closeness, but it is important for the two of us to have every moment we enjoy together that we can. Mr Hsg and I have been together for nearly 4 years, my daughter and I, nearly 28 years…….
I have packed a bag, made a list of what I am taking and feeling both excited and guilty. Excited about spending Christmas with Claire who loves Christmas, and guilty for not worrying about not being with Mr Hsg who hates celebrating anything, especially Christmas! He obviously cares about me to understand that it is important for me to have these times with Claire.
I feel I ought to stop and have a think about any changes I am noticing. Well, I think my Fibromyalgia pain has got a lot worse. We went to the Crick Boat Show and walked round for three hours, just pottering nothing strenuous. We chose to look around one of the narrowboats built by Wharf House Boats who build bespoke boats that are simply beautiful. As I climbed into the cratch (front of boat) and sat on the side to have the paper shoes on the muscles in my thighs screamed in pain, getting out was worse. The distance I can walk comfortably has noticeably changed since last year. I keep saying that it is because we have not had enough exercise to keep supple, but the truth is we do walk as much as we can. If we do stay in, I am up and cooking every day, which counts for up to an hour with activity. My consultant did say that she thinks there is a link with problems such as Fibromyalgia and Alzheimer’s Disease.
Today my throat is sore, my glands hurt and I can feel a heaviness when I breathe; hayfever. I have only experienced this over the past couple of years, although this year feels worse. My voice is so husky I could do a good rendition of ‘I was born under a wandering star’ sung by Lee Marvin one of the deepest voices ever! My neck is painful, but I know it will go once all of the oil seed rape and tree pollen has dissipated.
We sat out with our friends and their dogs on the bench overlooking the marina last night and someone made a joke about a refill of beer/lemonade, but I thought they were being serious and offered some of my lemonade. When they commented they meant beer, I felt a bit embarrassed inside. I am aware when I mistake some comment or joke for a serious comment, and that upsets me, it is as if my conscious self can only watch as the automatic self, make mistakes.
I have also noticed that my vision is not as clear, I cannot explain what the difference is but it is different. Sometimes reading is hard, and I struggle to follow a story because the physical act of reading the words is more difficult. Reading involves scanning the words either side which are in the peripheral vision linking each one to the last and ahead. Maybe the processing of the semantics of the words is becoming slower than the visual match, which would confuse my ability to read fluently. I have always been a fast reader; scanning the sentences rather than read each individual word slowly and maybe this is something that I will have to learn to do now. I love reading but have to start and finish a book without a break so I understand and remember the characters and plot in the story. So once I start a book I literally can’t put it down. When I write I am speaking the words in my head and not on paper, but can often miss words out when I am typing even though I have spoken them in my head.
I am also letting go of worrying about things I cannot control. I cannot control how my family deal with life and me. I used to worry about my daughter, wanting to protect her from all of the harshness of life, now I leave her to sort things out without me. She has always come to me when there are problems; I can still point her in the right direction, but will no longer be actively involved because I recognise that I cannot. I simply don’t have the mental resources anymore. I have always lived my life with guilt (a legacy of my mother), did I do enough; was I a good mother/bad mother; what if I don’t help her sort things out? However, I have got the psychology degree and know that I am the ‘good enough’ mother which is all we can hope to be, we give children the rules and the tools, and it’s up to them to learn how to use them alone.
I woke up having slept heavily (apart from the usual 4am check the clock time) but did not feel refreshed. I have pain in the back of my neck and still feel exhausted. My Fibromyalgia is still bothering me.
Thursday I have an appointment at the hospital for a check up on my eyes. I am tired of all these appointments, I don’t want to go and sit and wait my turn, talk to doctors, then leave with most of my day gone. Good news though I am being referred to the Glaucoma nurse for check-ups rather than the consultant because my eye pressures remain static with no damage still. This means it is only once a year and one thing I do not have to worry about, yay!
Quick shop locally, then home …please, as soon as I sit down I am out and slept until 5:30pm.
I wake on Friday with the back of my neck and the side of my head painful, I lack energy and am hoping we can stay in as my batteries are empty and I need to try and recharge them.
I think about Tuesday and chatting with my Daughter but cannot remember what we talked about, I wish I did because I would like to write it down. I remember how it felt being with her though 🙂
Monthers day came without the card from my daughter, posted late I would be waiting till Tuesday to receive it! Then she announced that she would be coming to visit on Tuesday with the boyfriend I had not yet met. My daughter’s train arrived at 1:20 and we hugged a ‘miss you so much’ hug. The boyfriend is a nice looking lad, shy with good manners, I like him and it is clear that C is besotted with him. However quiet he is, his words are carefully and wisely chosen. He is her grounding. I cooked curry whilst C and I caught up with news, and then we reminisced, I realised at some point that this was a private moment where Mr Hs and J could not join in. My daughter and I have a close bond that often single parents and their children have, that cannot be breached by anyone else during certain moments. It was one of those moments; she was taking us down memory lane and only we were walking arm in arm. I miss her, I miss talking to her, I miss the in-depth conversations we have about various topics and the news. I miss our closeness. I miss watching her life unfold in the delightful way she shares it. I miss her humour.