Tuesday 10 March 2015

Big Beauty


Underwater pebbles....





Big sky


big sea


big mountain.......big beauty......The Cape, South Africa.

Photos not related to this post really - just wanted some water - been drowning a bit today and then coming up for air.

 This morning three men are scrunching about on my plastic kitchen roof again - searching for the mystery hole that lets the rain in, lets it run down the kitchen walls, discussing endless possibilities, gazing up at the roof, standing on ladders, gouging out the sealant, poking the camera on the end of a flexible cable down an air vent, fire hosing the wall above it. When I get a crick in my neck and despair about the whole thing I go off and hand-wash some jumpers.

They are still there when my husband and I leave. We walk the 20 minutes to the dentist for his check up which was postponed 3 times for funerals. The dentist is young and pretty - my husband can't understand her accent. She knows he has memory problems and I'm there to translate for him - squashed on a folding chair in the corner behind all the hi-tech equipment. He opens his mouth, she starts checking his teeth with a long handled mirror. A siren starts blaring outside the open window. My husband screws up his face, clenches his fists, starts to cry. The dentist is alarmed she whips the mirror out of the way.
Did I hurt you?

No, he just reacts to the sound of the ambulance. I say.

My father died in an ambulance, he says.

Oh, sorry, she says.

Then he opens his mouth again and she carries on with the mirror journey. And says everything is fine - gum recession no worse anyway. Nothing to do. My husband is aghast at the £18.50 NHS charge. I say it's cheap and would be much more if it was private.

This afternoon we drive to Sidmouth for his EFT session which he always loves. He has forgotten he knew our Tapping friend 15 years ago - she says how much he helped her as a financial advisor, how kind he was to her. And now she is helping him - being kind to him.

Afterwards in the car I feel wrung out with trying to answer the unanswerable question - 

Can my husband control what comes out of his mouth?

Can he stop saying the same phrases over and over again? ( Not too bad. As we say in English. Ha ha ha).

Can he change the volume and pitch of his voice?

Can he stop calling himself a f****** a*******?

Is it a case of he won't rather than he can't - if it gets him lots of attention and he thinks it makes people laugh?

Is it all his brain disease or is there a little boy in him having some fun - still trying to be loved- whatever the cost?

I don't know. Probably never will. What I'm remembering though is that it doesn't really matter what comes out of his mouth - what matters is what I say to myself and what I say to him. 

Good kind things. Like It's OK.

 I love you when you say inappropriate things. And I love you when don't.

What a big beauty that would be.




No comments:

Post a Comment