End of Story

Shall we start with the nice bit? If you're in need of a cheer up, just read the next paragraph and look at the picture of the cute baby and then click away, after that it's fairly rantie auntie, you have been warned...

I have been home, my new nephew is beautiful and teeny tiny and was a bit yellow but grand now, look how weeny he is compared to my big heffalump of a boy

Okay, that's the good bit, from now on in, it's fairly grim, on your own head be it

I am so trying and failing to enjoy my visits home now, I could give you a list of my main reasons why but I just sound like a grumpy teenager and the world so doesn't need another one of them, my beautiful baby daughter is, in fact, the world's grumpiest teenager and I have no wish for you to see where she could have got that from.

I really struggled with my mother this visit, her need to have her own way at any cost and her refusal to compromise annoys the bejaysus out of me. Her anxieties and stresses about any tiny change in her routine of watching telly and watching telly exasperate me beyond words. This combined with her life long habit of not listening and not remembering make for a bumpy time.

My mother's memory is worsening. A few days of groundhog day conversations made me say that I was worried. Her vehement denial and her refusals to visit her GP over the last 6 months (for her usual BP checks etc) makes me think she knows her memory is worsening too. She is remaining in denial land, no matter how many times we tell her that things have improved hugely since her mother's dementia demise, she remains resolute. There is no problem, she is absolutely fine. End of story, those 3 words are my mothers final and much repeated end to any argument. I must have heard them hundreds of times in my life.

I can't help wondering if her inability to accept any change and her lack of doing anything are because of her mental state. Is it the chicken or the egg? Does she stay at home watching telly and not go out because she can't go wrong? does she not listen to us so she can blame that for not remembering? when did she start having the word finding difficulties?

My dad says he can't remember the last time she cooked a meal, or did some housework or even did the shopping. He has been doing it all. She either tells him things 5 times over ar not at all and then gets completely furious with him when he says she hasn't told him, saying he's the one with the memory problems. He has raised the subject about her memory but the ensuing arguments it caused made him not push the point.

My sister says my mother has stopped visiting, she used to drive the 14 miles a few times a week but she hasn't been for months. My sister has also noticed that mum listens less well and retains less but sees this as an ongoing problem, a gradual worsening, an inevitability.

I am not a good daughter to my mother, our relationship isn't the best or the closest or the easiest, I find it difficult to be with her. The parts of myself I particularly dislike are things I associate with my mother. I put a good face on it, I visit, we speak, I know she would help me if I needed it, I try but it doesn't come naturally to me, I don't have the ease with her I have with others.

I am not kind and patient like I am with others who suffer memory loss. I am not accomodating and cheerful and understanding, I am cross and tetchy and I find it incredibly tedious. I seem to lack genuine compassion for her, if she was your mother I would be much more understanding. And that is a huge shame, she must be so scared, she looked after my gran who had dementia, it must be like facing up to your own personal doom. This is a massive failing on my part, something I will have to really work on.

I don't understand why she won't go to her GP, I have an overwhelming need to know, no matter how bad I need to know what I am dealing with. I am an ex nurse, I believe in getting checked and seeing if any drug or therapy or lifestyle change can help. I believe in having the positive mental attitude, in matters medical I believe that early diagnosis is crucial. I sincerely hope she goes and gets checked out to see if there is anything that can be done to help.

But maybe I'm thinking about physical problems but it's not a physical problem, maybe if it was my mind I was scared of losing, I would be right where she is, in denial.

"I'm telling on you"

Four words that make my heart sink as I know I'm going to have to referee yet another bloody disagreement.

Tonight The Beautiful Son and Beautiful Baby Daughter were engaged in their favourite sport of annoy your sibling, my children can do this to Olympic standard and their dedication to perfecting this to an art form is unparallelled.

The bicker this evening was because BBD put the kitchen light off as she left the room but TBS was still in there finishing his yoghurt. This caused some yelling and both of them tear through to moan at me as is their wont. I hate this behaviour, the "I'm telling on you" stuff, I find it tedious and infuriating. BBD reasoned that as I am always telling them to turn lights off when they leave a room, she was just doing as requested, and that TBS didn't need light to eat a frube. I have mentioned before that BBD is also known as Little Miss Last Word and can never be wrong (I wonder where she gets that from ?)

So before the last vein in my head explodes I use my Queen of the Nasty Whisper voice, it's quite scary and they vamoose upstairs, it's a fairly low tone and is usually uttered through a very tightly clenched jaw and goes a bit like this

"foryourownsafetyiwouldrecommendthatyouleavethisroomimmediatelyandfindsomethingtodothatiwouldconsideruseful"

So what do I do then ? I phone my mammy and tell tales on them ! Oh yes, the faults I hate in others are the ones I have in abundance myself. So I have a right old whinge to my mammy about their behaviour and about the fact that no one does anything to help me and how perpetually knackered I am and she speaks to each one of my children and tells them off ! She makes them promise to do more to help me around the house and suitably chastened they disappear to tidy their bedrooms.

So I now know why they persist in telling tales because your mammy makes nice to you, gives you lots of sympathy and sorts it out for you.

ps My mammy is the nicest woman in the world, truly she is, she always finds a good word for everyone, this is my disclaimer, now read what she said to me, this was after I'd stopped whinging and she's told them off, this was when we were having a proper chat

auntiegwen - Gordon's (who I used to be married to, still technically am, but my weans dad) broken his toe. He doesn't know how he did it but I had a look and it's def broken

mammy - is it hurting him then ?

auntiegwen - yeah, he says it's really sore

mammy - good, I hope it's louping (very painful)

That made us both laugh and I felt a lot better, I love my mammy

Susan

This is a sad post, best to warn you now in case you're not up for it.

The Beautiful Mother has a best friend called Susan, she's the friend you have to call Auntie even though she's not. My Mum and Susan have been friends for years and she's been there all the way through my teens (and tantrums) and now into my middle age (slightly less tantrums). My parents and Susan and John spent masses of time together especially now since myself and my sister and Susan and John's 2 sons have grown up. My Mum sees her every day.

Susan is very bright, articulate, stylish and on the money, she is a serial entrepeneur and a real force to be reckoned with. She's great fun and has always been a fantastic friend and support to my family, she's always been there. My sister is very close to her and when my sister was getting engaged Susan gave her her own engagement ring as she has no daughter, she's that kind.

Susan's mum Margaret developed Polycystic Kidney Disease and went on dialysis when I was in High School. My Mum and Susan set up a branch of the British Kidney Patients Association as there was no local one and raised shed loads of money. Margaret had 2 transplants which both sadly failed and she died after a long struggle with the disease whilst only in her 60's.

Susan and her brothers were both tested as PKD is an inherited disease, both brothers were clear but Susan tested positive, in 2003 her kidneys began to fail and Susan went on dialysis. The last 5 years have been so incredibly tough for her family, Susan chose not to go on the transplant list because of what her own mother went through, so every night she would hook up her bags and dialyse through the night, living with a chronic disease takes a big toll on everyone but they were managing.

Over the last year, Susan has become increasingly unwell, she is unrecognizable from the woman she really is and has been unable to move around without a zimmer frame and when she goes out she needs one of them old lady scooter things, my mum is a dab hand and dismantling and re assembling them. Her quality of life has taken a complete nose dive. Her husband has had to give up their very successful business and now works part time locally and my mum goes in when he is at work.

Susan has spent the last 3 weeks in hospital, last week her heart stopped but she was resuscitated. She is so incredibly tired and yesterday when my mum went to see her, she told her of her decision to stop dialysis, she will only live for a week or two maximum without it.

She feels she doesn't want to just exist and that she has no quality of life, she will leave behind a husband, 2 sons one of whom's partner is expecting their first baby and my mum. I wonder how they feel. Numb, probably.

She's only 52.