What to write?

I’m sitting at my laptop trying to work out what to write about today.

Danya’s Dementia Journey feels like it’s hit a bit of a traffic jam. The sun’s shining and it’s a lovely day so I move from my laptop, search for a notebook and pen and relocate to the garden.

The gardens where I live are really lovely. I’m sitting in the sun outside my home, facing a courtyard with perfectly mowed lawns and gravel pathways leading to a central pond and fountain. We have a huge Catalpa tree, its branches, laden with bright green leaves and white candle-like flowers, reach almost to the ground - creating a vibrant living cave and a cool shelter from the hot sun.

Weather permitting, members of the community often come together under the tree and share a bar-b-que and a cool glass of wine. I don’t need shade at all at the moment because I’ve dithered about for too long and the blue sky and bright sunlight, which initially called for me to come out, has now suffered a drifting attack from a large bank of cloud. I’m wearing a T-shirt at the moment, but I have a long-sleeved top on the bench beside me and I reckon I’ll need to put it on quite soon.

Ah, but no, the sun has come back out. A light breeze has taken hold of that big cloud and is now, gently but purposefully, pushing it towards Upton. These shifts of light, shadow and temperature always affect me. There’s nothing nicer than sitting in a beautiful place with the sun holding me in the warmth of its perfect light. Nature at this moment seems so perfectly balanced, and I realise that without the soft breeze that’s just arrived it would probably be too hot, and I’d have to go indoors.

I’m hugely privileged to live in the environment I’m in, it’s perfection, and yet - not. Despite the sense of great privilege I get from living where I do, I still manage to wish for more. More consistancy in the light and heat from the sun. That the fountain in the centre of the courtyard was deep and wide enough for us to swim in, that, lovely though it may be here, it would be perfect if it were by the sea, like my home in Ireland was. (The same home that stopped being good enough for me after a while because it was too far away from my family!)

Was I always so fickle? Is my attitude toward life always this ‘glass-half-full versus ‘glass-half-empty’ debate? If I were designing the days, the weather, the temperature, the rain-fall, the tides and rivers and all the busy movement of the world, would I be making a better job than this? I think we all know the answer to that one.

Maybe I’ve touched on something here that is quite important. I’m rather disappointed in the way I’m thinking. And it’s not just now, I’ve always had an unhealthy streak of ‘Grass being greener on the other side’ syndrome. So if I apply this insight to my current life situation. My dementia. Having it distresses me. It’s not the easiest thing to face. But I have a friend who is going blind. Would I swap? No way. Like NO WAY!

I have two friends who have cancer, and one who is finding it increasingly hard to walk because her legs are so swollen. I could go on and on: there are often nurses visiting patients in my community. I don’t ask what the problems are, it’s not my business, but I don’t need to have nurses coming and going. I’m not complacent about that, because am I not, so far, just really really lucky?

Every day some people who live here have their meals delivered. I don’t need that. I’m perfectly able to cook for myself. I’m bored to tears with what I make, but that’s my own fault and comes of my being indifferent and lazy around food and cooking, and not because of any profound affliction or disability I may have.

Some people find it very hard to get around. I don’t. I walk at least five miles most days. Some people here don’t have much or any contact with family. My daughters are really good about keeping in touch, and I’ve been given my driving licence for another year, which I thought was unlikely to happen, so I can still drive to theirs.

I really don’t know, yet, what the future will bring for me as my dementia grows worse. But that’s not here, yet, and it’s not now. I can’t judge my future without actually experiencing it can I? So why do I keep projecting some horror story onto my present day, when all it does is spoil an otherwise alright day for absolutely no good purpose.

Are you someone who is able to look on the bright side of life? If so, wish me luck with my efforts, I think I have a lot to learn.

I’ll sign off now, and thank you so much for reading my wandering and rambling thoughts. Be well, and above all be happy and have a good day.