Weekends & week days they are all the same to me

still not figured out what life is outside this house, even though since mum’s passing I have stepped up my awareness work to fill up as many hours as I can.

I remember one late Saturday night checking in on mum as I did almost hourly over the years to see if she was okay and comfortable. From the window I heard the noise of people returning home from a night out, their laughter and happiness a reminder of what had become distant from both of our lives. As our journey progressed the chance to go out and enjoy some of the activities we took for granted decreased. In fact our life within the home decreased, really shrinking to two rooms upstairs as mum became very weak.  That’s not to say there was no joy, mum made sure of that. Her love and kindness always shone through no matter what.

Before dementia and my life caring for my mum I was always out. I travelled ten months of the year and going out went hand in hand with my job. I write this today as I walked up for the Sunday paper I passed some people coming home from what looked like a good night our discussing their activities and it made me smile. They looked decidedly happy with themselves and good on them, enjoy every moment you can. As I sat down I tried to remember the last time I was out socially and that feels like a distant memory. It’s something I have to try and work out how to do and I miss that part of life that disappeared but not as much as I miss the kindness of my mum the care in her heart and the light that shone from her eyes brighter than any Saturday night I have witnessed .

Weekends and week days seem all the same to me these days, but they are missing someone who made them better and special - Joan Whitelaw my wee mum

Tommy