This hasn’t happened for so long that I had almost forgotten: Anthony’s wish to come home.
From between noon and 3pm today, Anthony tried, futilely, to get up from his armchair and kept repeating “C’mon, Jules, let’s go home.”
Over and over and over again, I kept making excuses: “I have to go to work at 3pm, Ants” – in reference to support meeting I was attending this afternoon; reassuring him that his long-deceased mother was fine; re-explaining to him that he was in a nursing home and had Parkinson’s disease; and telling him how much I loved him.
Similar stories were shared at the family support meeting and I love the fact that we can comfort each other simply by acknowledging that we are all going through similar experiences with our loved ones.
It is 40 years since I fell in love with Anthony, the cheeky, macho dairy farmer with a penchant for motorbikes and fast cars – a man 23 years older than me who stole my heart.
And, no matter how much I would love to bring him home, I can’t; he is immobile now.
Perhaps, instead of always trying to be positive, I should just accept the fact that this is a horrible situation.
I can’t be bothered with the categories and tags that I should attach to this post/blog. From now on I am just going to write my heart out in whatever way I can and this will be such a relief!
This isn’t home anymore, Ants, because you are not here.