I didn't reckon on being this  lonely.  Lonely as opposed to alone.  Being alone is a delightful state of being.  Yesterday morning I was alone.  Took the Skoda in for a service, walked across town and across the river to have a coffee at the Riverview.  I had a book, the river, nesting mynah birds and water dragons for company.  I was alone at a table on the verandah and perfectly happy.  I read a little, watched the river and river life for a little, read some more.  An enjoyable hour.

Picked up Richard to get the second car serviced.  We walked to the RSL (air conditioning a necessity) for lunch.  Watched Richard struggle with his meal, tried to help him to use the knife without interfering too much.  Couldn't read the book (rude), made small talk (lots of white cars, aren't there, how's the fish, let's get this napkin in your lap), watched traffic and felt lonely. 

I'm not the best conversationalist but there are so many things of interest to discuss yet there is no one to discuss them with.  I see the women on Thursdays, the Writer's Group for 2 hours on a Friday and Nick the guitar teacher every second Wednesday.  Sometimes I run into people while walking - or talk to the guys at the feed store or the women at the checkout - but that's just chitchat.  I miss the companionship of conversation. 

Am a bit chary about complaining as what do I have to complain about in the grand scheme of things when I have a roof, food, safety, interests, etc.  On the other hand, it wouldn't be honest to pretend everything is peachy and I am miss pollyanna perfectly happy.  I'm not. 

Being relieved and grateful for the hour or so when he takes a nap - I wish it was otherwise.  Being aggrieved and out of sorts when there is a long spate of essential micromanagment because his memory fails him and he's lost his bearings.  And the fight to remain patient and loving.   How difficult that can be and I often fail, hearing the impatience in my voice. 

Even small talk becomes more difficult as Parky robs him of his ability to speak much above a whisper and the dexterity toform words clearly.  Then of course dementia steals his vocabulary as well as his memory.

It's a shit deal for anyone.   Richard doesn't deserve this - and whingy me, neither do I.

Late Night Musings and what that entails

Late at night.  Almost too tired to sleep after driving 6 hours in the rain, much of it in holiday traffic.  (Why do we do this to ourselves!?).  Know I need to sleep but have stumbled on Pandora, something I didn't even know existed, a place where they play beautiful music or at least music of your choice.  I chose 'yoga music' so have, at the moment, David Evenson and the Soundings Ensemble.  What joy.   And for free! 

Feel like I've stumbled into a like- minded community.  My friends don't live nearby so there is little to no chance for long coffee or wine fueled chats.  And it gets a bit lonely here sometimes.  I am in transition from wife and lover and best friend to carer.  It's not a role I like but it is what it is and as I'm in this marriage for love and for better or worse, I'll take it.  He is my Richard, still my Richard after all.  But, sometimes it's a bit lonely as I am losing my best friend.  So it's a pretty good deal to find Rabelle Society and Yoga by Candace and Pandora.  Everyone needs a support group even if that group is anonymous and no more aware of me than I am of the fly on the stable wall.  Just reading their thoughts, that there are people out there who think like me, that are introverts and are okay with that.  Well, that's just plain marmalade!

In fact, it's all fine.  As I said to someone today at the Great Annual Family Get Together, if I think about the future I get frightened and depressed but right now?  I'm fine.  Richard's fine.  Met a neighbour on the road yesterday.  He asked whether I'd had a good christmas.  I'm upright and ambulatory, I replied,  so I'm good.

Even Peter Greste, writing from an Egyptian prison, managed to find the good in Christmas.  If he can what complaint dare I make? 

None at all.  And for that I am truly grateful.