Chapter 519 - Loneliness
I frequently suspect she is lonely. The only women she has regular contact with are those from Wild Dog Care and that only briefly. I notice they, well some at least, tend to hold some conversation with her when I am not present so I try to busy myself elsewhere. She needs encouragement to use her mobile. She mostly talks on a phone in monosyllables, and those in response to questions from the other end. Her voice seems to be softer and less modulated lately but then my hearing has deteriorated. Her friend at the local equivalent of Dance for PD held at a church hall seems to look forward to seeing her each Tuesday morning, but there is little communication between them for the friend has PD as well and is stricken with loss speech, only speaking in whispers, but stands and walks with difficulty using a walker. Which is the greater loss, ability to speak or walk?
On Friday we met her sisters at the usual place up the 4 lane; the place we were to meet on the previous Friday when she suffered her most recent "turn" and I called for an ambulance. Ever since we began meeting there years ago the seating arrangements since she became wheel chair bound mean she is unable to be positioned beside either sister so she has minimal input to conversation and when she does comment the sisters never hear her, unintentionally of course due to her softer voice not rising above the background noise of the restaurant. The sisters' voices have a greater sharpness and they speak at a faster rate. I hear her make an odd comment or two, yet no one else does. Should I interpose?
Yesterday her MS friend rang to to tell us that a work related friend, whose wife was part of the unofficial wives group when we were all "strangers and foreigners" at that country town in WA, is in palliative care suffering the end stages of pancreatic cancer. Although at first she was in a sleepy stupor, I absented myself after setting the phone to speaker mode and the somewhat one-sided conversation lasted for at least 20 minutes. The experience was good for her.
Even I have difficulty speaking with family and family friends. I have never been much of a conversationalist but now in our declining disabling years isolated in a country town, that relocating to seemed a good idea 19 years ago, we know so little about our grand children and other family members that we are unable to trade stories about their exploits, or bother much listening to tales from others (I speak for myself alone). And what else does one talk about at family gatherings? Latest holidays? Well we don't have those either. On Friday my positive comments on the ousting of a politician at the recent elections, one well known for his right wing stance on global warming, abortion, feminism and much else, received aggressive responses in return, albeit from those of a religious persuasion of a different colour. So being a coward (not wishing to argue) I discontinued conversation about religion and politics and the future of humankind, leaving little else to discuss.
For many weeks I have distressed myself searching for an original monotone photograph of herself and middle sister, aged about 4 and 3 years respectively, seated on a circular table top. A beautiful image of two pretty little girls. The sister had asked for a copy of it. I had thought to digitise and stitch it. The stress of searching in albums, boxes, cupboards, even in collections of scanned files, for many weeks had become a cause of depression until yesterday when I unexpectedly saw a small copy of the image a a small album of random photos. What a relief!! At least now the image, even if not from the original 8x10, can be recovered with some loss of quality.
In the process of searching for the photograph I bagged a lot of junk paperwork for the garbage and my hoarding complex was only a little harmed. Actually a few "treasures" that were lost are now found. And 8 or 9 black bin liners have been filled with clothes not worn in years to be collected by St Vinnie's tomorrow. Perhaps this is downsizing in preparation for the inevitable which can't be too far away as both of us will in a short time will merge into our 9th decade. For my part there is too much family history work to complete, a few or more stitchings to do for simple pleasure and a lot of books to read.
On Friday we met her sisters at the usual place up the 4 lane; the place we were to meet on the previous Friday when she suffered her most recent "turn" and I called for an ambulance. Ever since we began meeting there years ago the seating arrangements since she became wheel chair bound mean she is unable to be positioned beside either sister so she has minimal input to conversation and when she does comment the sisters never hear her, unintentionally of course due to her softer voice not rising above the background noise of the restaurant. The sisters' voices have a greater sharpness and they speak at a faster rate. I hear her make an odd comment or two, yet no one else does. Should I interpose?
Yesterday her MS friend rang to to tell us that a work related friend, whose wife was part of the unofficial wives group when we were all "strangers and foreigners" at that country town in WA, is in palliative care suffering the end stages of pancreatic cancer. Although at first she was in a sleepy stupor, I absented myself after setting the phone to speaker mode and the somewhat one-sided conversation lasted for at least 20 minutes. The experience was good for her.
Even I have difficulty speaking with family and family friends. I have never been much of a conversationalist but now in our declining disabling years isolated in a country town, that relocating to seemed a good idea 19 years ago, we know so little about our grand children and other family members that we are unable to trade stories about their exploits, or bother much listening to tales from others (I speak for myself alone). And what else does one talk about at family gatherings? Latest holidays? Well we don't have those either. On Friday my positive comments on the ousting of a politician at the recent elections, one well known for his right wing stance on global warming, abortion, feminism and much else, received aggressive responses in return, albeit from those of a religious persuasion of a different colour. So being a coward (not wishing to argue) I discontinued conversation about religion and politics and the future of humankind, leaving little else to discuss.
For many weeks I have distressed myself searching for an original monotone photograph of herself and middle sister, aged about 4 and 3 years respectively, seated on a circular table top. A beautiful image of two pretty little girls. The sister had asked for a copy of it. I had thought to digitise and stitch it. The stress of searching in albums, boxes, cupboards, even in collections of scanned files, for many weeks had become a cause of depression until yesterday when I unexpectedly saw a small copy of the image a a small album of random photos. What a relief!! At least now the image, even if not from the original 8x10, can be recovered with some loss of quality.
In the process of searching for the photograph I bagged a lot of junk paperwork for the garbage and my hoarding complex was only a little harmed. Actually a few "treasures" that were lost are now found. And 8 or 9 black bin liners have been filled with clothes not worn in years to be collected by St Vinnie's tomorrow. Perhaps this is downsizing in preparation for the inevitable which can't be too far away as both of us will in a short time will merge into our 9th decade. For my part there is too much family history work to complete, a few or more stitchings to do for simple pleasure and a lot of books to read.
posted by Kilpike | 3:38 pm
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