2021

 

Its around this time of year that my wife comes home from work with gifts and an indication that the year is coming to a close. My wife is customer facing as a receptionist where there are lots of regular customers and there tends to be generosity this time of year. Above for example is a box of 35 Tunnock's tea cakes which is not cheap. That was just one of the gifts. I feel I should send them down to my uncle in East Anglia as he misses some things from home despite being away for all the time I have known him. I'm not sure if its these of the wafers he misses though so maybe I'll have to eat them myself. When my brother was down earlier in the year he took some Stornaway black budding. My gran used to take down Lorne sausage, potato scones, shortbread and other things I forget know. That was though a time when things were hard to get, a different world. Nowadays there is very little you cannot get if you want it and have the funds. Makes me think of my first holiday abroad at Palma Nova and newspapers were always so a day or two out of date which is very different from now where you can get them with a click instantly on your phone. I digress.

I can't remember all the gifts my wife got but she did well and as I said it indicates the end of the year. It goes too quickly. 2021 has shot by like a rocket in much the same way as 2020 did. I see I am over the half century now and my wife is a few years ahead of me. Two girls at 18 and 16 with the boy turning 14 in a month's time. It is scary. But the feelings are mixed. I am sure I am not the only one who could not wait to see the back of this year- and last. It has been 2 years of misery for everyone and we can only hope that if not for ourselves then the generations below the future years are better. Right now no one can tell and that is the hardest thing.

I relate everything to myself. In that regard I feel its very like my first full blown panic attack which had me unable to go out the door. That was incredibly scary. Not only did I not know what was wrong with me but I could find no one to help me. It was, and still is, a very lonely place. More than that though was the uncertainty of the future. I did not know if I would ever get better. I didn't know if things were ever going to be the same again. Two years on almost from the beginning of Covid19 we are all still feeling the same way. There is fear around every corner and the future is really unknown. I am not recovered but I see many people who are recovered- many, many people. I feel even after all this time I can still recover too because I have had a taste of it. Likewise many deadly viruses have brought the world to a stop over time and every time the human race has bounced back. I don't see this time being any different. Like myself it may take longer than hoped but when the destination is reached it will bring with it an appreciation that has been earned and a resiliance that will make the time after better than those who never went through it. 

Setting

The year is setting like the sun above ever so slowly. My wife decided after being up North at the weekend to see her Octogenarian dad with the kids that they would not be returning to school. They all plan to spend Christmas and New Year up there so potentially exposing them to the new strain in that period when all they would be doing is watching videos and hanging about didn't seem wise. So it felt like the year closed earlier than normal as it also meant kids were up later and rising later. It has in effect felt like a string of weekends tied together. And for my part the year has also set as I have done very little and plan to do even less. I do though have further plans beyond that for the new year as we all no doubt do but mine involve establishing a routine which is missing in my life rather than specific goals.

For some reason on the day I turned 50 I felt the need to wear a shirt and dress a bit smarter. So I donned the first day with a shirt I had never worn and a jumper I had not worn either. Smartened up. And at one point that day the dog found something he should not have had. He wasn't for giving it up. I got a few dog biscuits and threw them down the hall with the hope being he would get them, I would shut the door behind him and remove the problem. But he is smart. He looked at where the treats were tossed, looked at me and then just launched at me. Shirt and jumper were binned as he ripped holes in both and I was left wondering what would have happened had I only been wearing one layer. He never learns. I got the hoover out, turned it on and that was enough to scare him off. I removed the problem and then he appeared with ears back and tail wagging like he had not seen me for weeks. Bizarre but coming an all too familiar routine. Still a new shirt and jumper needed binned.

It did though get me thinking about getting into a routine to organise my day. I have noted a few men of a certain age lately needing their routine of a shave, a wash, dressing and going for a paper or down somewhere for coffee or breakfast. A read. A walk. A shop. That kind of thing. The opposite of getting up and lounging about in PJs because there is no need not to. Routine is more important than I think I realised in my own life at least.

Anyway given we are all supposed to stay indoors when we can there has not been much else going on at the moment. I would expect that to be the case well into the new year. 
 

Omicron

 Today was the last day of isolation but not until midnight after this post is written. Its been a bit strange and a bit quick. I didn't mention it last time as it only occurred after. Around 10 days ago I suppose I was sitting alone at home with the dog on a Sunday and meanwhile my wife was up North taking her dad to a Christmas thing at the Church and the two younger kids were with them up in the choir loft. All good. Except sometime between then and Friday past someone tested positive for the new Omicron strain and that person was in the choir. My wife and kids being in close proximity had to isolate for 10 days from the event and so did I and the oldest being in the same household. But we only found out on Friday so its not been a long prison term. Thankfully although we have isolated we developed no symptoms. I think we avoided that one and thankfully my wife's dad avoided it too. He didn't have to isolate as he had covid within the 10 days (not sure of the official timeframe) prior to the incident at church. We have definitely been lucky on that score. 

This new variant is a big concern though. I said it to my wife last week when a couple of cases became 5 then 11 and then 25 and so on. Its how it went with the original Covid19 outbreak and this is supposed to be more contagious. That is a big worry. A big worry for the health service who are already under enough pressure as it is and for businesses who could be heading again into a period of closure they may not survive this time. I see the lockdowns at differing degrees in Austria, Germany and Holland mainly through football it has to be said but cannot help thinking we should be doing the same now. In fact last week it should have been done or earlier. We are not learning from this. If its 1 on day 1, 2 on day 2, 4 on day 3, 8 on day 4 then by the end of the week 1 is 64 and a week later its 8192, and so on. You have to stop at source surely! This weekend in Scotland we have a football cup final where over 50,000 people will attend. At the Hydro venue there are big events with lots of people attending. Restaurants, pubs, clubs and other venues like the Irn Bru Carnival which will be starting soon will see droves of people mingle. Airports will condense people of varying biological states into small places to spread around the country while trains, taxis, ferries and all the rest with do similar. Am I missing something? I know its not the popular thing to do and that is the probable reason the FM (that is First Minister rather than Fanny Merchant but those lines are as hard to define as the difference between an alligator and a crocodile) doesn't want to make the right call. Do we wait for it to get too bad to ignore before we do something? 

Time will tell. I do hope my concerns are false and soon we go back to normal. Not for me but for the kids who can seem to get a run at life without some sore of covid obstacle threat. The kids need a clearer future when what we have at present. For me its no different really. An excuse to stay indoors is an excuse not to be different for once. Its what I do and what I have done but even at 50 hope it won't be forever. But who knows? I have just lay out on the sofa reading books mostly and noting world events. Sorry to read of the deaths of both Mike Nesmith and Anne Rice who had impacts on my life in different ways but that is the way of it. At midnight tonight the cell door opens again and I must start getting out again more regularly and looking for a life before it passes me by. 

Relaxation

 

Sitting out chilling with a book, electronically. A cuppa, wish I had some Earl Grey. Or even Lady Grey as that hint of orange is sometimes more appealing. After a long walk it's nice to just lie back and find a place of relaxation that I could not find for years. I lie back, read, sip and read again then invariably I fall asleep. It's a good sleep. Its not like lying at two in the morning wishing to find slumber land. It's natural. It's earned. I drift off with thoughts of whatever I was reading. I'm going to enjoy Mark Twain when it comes around and Jack London. This is my favourite time of day. 

Its not that not much else is happening, or maybe that is the case. I haven't really thought about it. What I was thinking about when I was lying out was how much things have changed for the better. There was a long period of time when I could not relax like this. There was a time when I could not walk far so could not tire myself out and instead I would sit nursing an underlying current of agitation that who distractedly buzz away enough to stop me finding focus and losing concentration. Something as simple as relaxing is not to be taken for granted. It costs nothing but that does not mean we can all have it. Many people have many worries that prevent them melting into a sofa or sleeping like a baby. We live in a world full of stresses where negativity is fired at us from all directions. It is a a high paced blur driving most from waking to sleep in an instant. It is the polar opposite from my memories of sitting on a small boat slowly floating down the Norfolk broads under a baking sun in those long summers. That is where I would like to be so in those moments that is where my mind takes me. 

It is not my plan to spend my days like this of course. My plan is to try to get back into life as soon as possible. But after the time I had last year I treasure these moments more than anything material and I hope they remain no matter how hard life gets around about them. 

Next in line

 

Not the best photo I know but it's not the best phone that I have and nor the best camera contained within it. It's cheap. Maybe if I had my actual camera, which I have not used in over a year, things would be different. Soon possibly. It is about time I got my camera back out again to push me out of the door. What the photo above is of, said better in words than visually, is a young fox. A new fox hanging around looking to be fed in some way. Stupidly fearless because he or she should carry fear or life won't last very long around here. The old fox is gone, long gone. It upset my wife but true to form she has gotten attached to this new one. 

I'd rather she didn't. I'd rather the dog was not barking loudly when I took him out. I'd rather our living room was not the soul illumination in the wee dark hours. I'd rather the wild were left wild because that is how they survive and any human kindness is a nail in their coffin frankly. They need to be afraid of us humans. They should be afraid of us humans.

It is a fruitless effort to argue. The ball is rolling and will keep rolling nightly. It will keep coming and my wife will keep feeding it. 

Strimming

  

A new neighbour moved in during lockdown but as he is rarely around I don't know much about him. When I took the dog out two days ago he was standing talking to another neighbour so I joined in. He'd bought a strimmer from Homebase and was taking care of his lawn. He made his case for his purchase which was reasonable enough. We don't have room for a mower and it is only a small patch of grass we all each have so it doesn't justify the purchase. Besides that it was only £15 for the strimmer and he had trimmed all of his grass with it. The other neighbour agreed and so she bought one too. She also offered it to me which I had planned on doing.

After a rethink though I bought my own. I think we need it. Space is a problem but they are not that big. I ended up spending more than I planned and more than my wife liked but I felt it better to spend a little more for various reasons. The neighbours had a cheap plastic £15 which does the job but not greatly and as one neighbour told me it took her all night. Also needed was a long extension lead so between the two probably £25. For twice that I could get a better one but also cordless. This was the big thing. That is a good price for a cordless one. For a Karcher the battery alone is £65. The big thing was though no cord. The alarm I felt previously cutting the grass when spotting the dog off his lead with busy traffic in the background pushed me into it. More so when I slowly went towards him and he started running toward the traffic. That was not good at all.

I finished the job today and it does look much better. I'm also confident now that while I will take up any offer of a mower in future I think without it I'll still be able to do it all with the trimmer. Now all I need to do is find a space to store it. 

Altered realities

  

In the future what will people make of it all? A while back I had a real appetite for genealogy and the holy grail was always photographs for me. I'm not sure if that was the case for all. I've seen enough episodes of "Who do you think you are?" to know many have lots of photos of ancestors that I don't. My gran had the main source and chucked cinefilm before being stopped from chucking photos too. But there are not enough. I craved finding a pic of my maternal grandfather who was an incredible man but killed too young before I was born. Likewise a photo existed of my paternal great grandfather who died in his early 20s but I have never seen it. These for me are things greater than money.

Anyway mucking about with an app I produced the above picture making myself look 20 stone or so. How long will these exist? I know from having teenage girls that fake tan, nails, eyelashes, contacts, glasses, hair and do much more are all the rage. In years to come what will our descendants find which is actually authentic? It's scary just like the reanimation I mentioned before. Ironically though I found out my estranged parents told my aunt and uncle that I had given up on life and was mentally gone, beyond help. That narrative and the above photo would paint a very alternative reality so just how much of the past can we believe? 

Edging Forward

  

The fact that I went further in one direction is not the point here. Its the fact that having done so not only was I not fighting the urge to turn back but I was actually fighting the urge to push on. Normally when doing graduated exposure the first goal is to push out to the line in the sand. Second on the list if the first is achieved is to cross that line. Third and final is to push within reason as far as possible. Like being tied to home by a bit of elastic as I have said before. This time though it was like the elastic had snapped and the only thing holding me back were the recent demons of doubt. 

I pushed on into Bothwell on Monday to a point I have not been for a few years. And it was OK. And really part of me wanted to push on further. I am glad I didn't. 5 minutes later I had a crash. The power and energy just went. It was hard enough where I was but 10 minutes further out could have been a disaster. But there are good signs there. These little glimmers of hope happened first time around unexpectedly and led to bigger strides. I feel it is happening again and that feels good.

The photo above was taken in woodland in the way back. Strange I saw my first deer for a while but it was not like others. I actually thought it was a boxer. It was the same sort of colour but by the time I had my phone out it was gone. I have never seen deer here. So many new expensive houses are being thrown up here that I fear the deer have nowhere to go. 

Midnight creeper

  

A little nocturnal thief has been on the prowl again. Just look at his guilty face. No chance of me just taking the belongings back. That needs a bit of smoke and mirrors. I had to wake my wife to clear up when I took him out first thing as he needs to be out the way to do it. And as soon as we came back in he was straight for the bed then a little bit aggressive that his new possessions were gone.

They are possessions. He doesn't sit and munch them. He just takes them to his lair and guards them. As I type he is growling at anyone passing as I dropped a slice of lime in the kitchen and he was off with it almost before it hit the ground. We know when he does it. He moves faster and his body is lower to the ground as he takes his swag. I have told my wife and oldest countless times about leaving their bags in the floor but it keeps happening. I would have thought the chewed cards would have been a wake up call. 

Unendurable

It's taken me a while and much longer than I remember it but finally I am nearing the end of "1984" by George Orwell. My first book in a long while and hopefully the start of getting back into reading again. My kindle tells me I am 91% complete so not long now. I have just gotten to a bit which really struck a chord with me...

"'Do you remember,' said O'brien, 'the moment of panic that used to occur in your dreams? There was a wall of blackness in front of you, and a roaring in your ears. There was something terrible on the other side of the wall. You knew that you knew what it was, but you dared not drag it into the open.'"

That feels about right sometimes. I do feel there is something at the other side of my wall causing the panic. I think I know what it is but don't at the same time because I have buried it so well I cannot remember. There is something there though. Its not visible. Its there. I think I do fear exposing it. And that led me to another paragraph shortly after.

"'By itself,' he said, 'pain is not always enough. There are occasions when a human being will stand out against pain, even to the point of death. But for everyone there is something unendurable - something that cannot be contemplated. Courage and cowardice are not involved.'"

In the story Winston Smith has been broken by torture and interrogation but still there is a tiny part unbreakable by force alone. This is the final method to completely break the spirit. And that is important here. We all do have something we just cannot contemplate facing. The force of that cannot be put into words. It's just something there inside us. A door we keep closed. And this is the thing most self therapy books I have read don't get. I know opening that door won't kill me. You know that. We do not think this will physically harm us or threaten our mortality. It is just something we feel unable to face. As said by Orwell the ability to face that does not come down to an overabundance of courage versus lack of it. Its something we just cannot handle regardless of how stupid it would appear to others. And this last part is what empowers it further because even if someone says they understand they don't. Even if they show support you know deep down they don't mean it. It's an anomaly that is as hard to pin down as it is to describe but it is very much a personal event. 

Friends

 

I have one friend in particular, who strangely is not in the above lineup despite being part of that lot, who reaches out now and again. He has done for years. I do feel blessed to have good friends despite not seeing them often. This one though goes above and beyond despite being a very popular guy with a huge group of friends in all walks of life. He contacted me out the blue today just to see how things were going. That is the kind of guy he is.

I'm also lucky in that despite heading to my 50th at the end of the year all my friends are still around. One nearly wasnt and he is pictured above. Thankfully despite small odds he pulled through his particular illness and appears to be on the mend. He is the oldest and has has his landmark birthday. I'm second in line. I do hope at some point we can all meet up. I do miss it but did get a taste a few years ago. 

Woodland Art

  

I was lying back in a t-shirt and shorts reading a book ear;ier today when the younger two came home from school. The older one went straight to her room without saying much if anything in the passing. The boy though asked if it was OK to go out later. Sure, are you meeting with friends? No it turns out. Instead he was going alone down the park to look for inspiration for a vaguely themed art project thrust upon him that day. A bit poor in my opinion given he had been at school all day. So I said I'd help him out. There was nothing to be gained down the park. Woodlands were better even if I wasn't sure what it was he needed. Other people had done designs with sticks and stones. That was a start.

Half an hour later we were in the woods. Ideally the dog would have been running around but he would not budge out the street. There was something good about it though. Rather than sitting at home I was out helping my son with school work. I found some reeds and rocks and let the boy do the rest. I am still not sure what the point of it was but it got us out at least. 

Weir

 

A weir is, I believe, similar to a dam except that instead of blocking the water completely from flowing it allows flow over its top. The river keeps flowing but its flow is controlled rather than natural. This one above is one I have seem many times from up on the bridge but never given it much thought until yesterday. Apparently swimming in a weir is dangerous yet I see kids swimming there every summer. That I'd imagine is the least of their worries given the colour and smell of it and the fact there is a sewage works quarter of a mile upstream. It's a place though people tend to stop and view while crossing the bridge. Often a heron can be spotted lingering. Ive seen the odd cormorant too. Further downstream I even seen an otter one year. At the right time of year large splashes of salmon landing can be heard. There is a calmness to the flow. Not as calming as the ocean waves but a little break from the concrete and metal surrounds.

I mention it because I was down here yesterday for the first time in a while. I've decided that if I am going to walk every day then I need to vary the walks or I will lose interest to boredom. I nearly didn't. It was about 11 in the morning when I headed down and going towards the woodland that would take me down I was on a collision course with 4 guys. I slowed but they stopped and in doing so all 4 pulled out bottles of Buckfast. So I walked again and they walked too. They were getting louder and I could see although all 4 were drunk their bottles were newly opened. They had probably bought them, headed down the woods and could not wait. It put me off. The woods are getting darker with people this last year or so and I find myself avoiding them more. 

In the end I went a different way and was glad I did. After getting uptight this helped unwind me a little. It makes me more determined also to get better soon even though I can't force that. I now long badly for the coast. I'd like to see the sea again soon. 

Vote cast

  

I do always leave it until the last minute but finally yesterday I posted my vote. Its done. Not that it matters really in the grand scheme of things. The SNP will still rule the roost when it's all over due to the unionist vote being split and just as divided down the middle the Scottish people will remain. One thing it is sure to do is open up those old wounds from 7 years and begin in a period of hate and fall outs among friends and family. Let the fun begin.

I am of course talking about the Scottish elections. For years I didn't vote but as I overcame my agoraphobia I did vote a few times. This time however it is a sign of how things are at the minute that I have had to cast my vote by post. I have now done so as I said. And as I also said about its just division upon division everywhere you look except for the SNP who have their own fan club that never wavers. They are no bigger in numbers than the non-SNP voters but they are not divided so they always win.  What is the point really? 

That said tomorrow I will no doubt end up watching the declarations as I usually do and although I usually set out to watch it all I end up turning off when a sea of yellow fills the map of Scotland. Drug death capital of Europe. Scandal in Parliament. The exam fiasco which was overturned by the youth. Covid positive sufferers put into care homes at the cost of many lives. I see the appeal. But it's a democracy of course. I accept that- though I wish others would have accepted that in 2014. Its clear the government will continue for a 4th term and whether that is with a majority or with its environmental wing (Scottish greens) in its back pocket is irrelevant. Its only about breaking up the UK and unfortunately half of Scotland want to do that regardless of what that means. There is more than a tinge of inevitability about that unfortunately. 

Blue envelope

  

The blue envelope finally arrived last week and with it a sense of dread. It shouldn't be that way but it is. I knew an appointment would arrive for the COVID19 Vaccination and knew it would probably give me mental battles which it has. First jag of two. I have no problem with a jag. I'm not scared of needles. And given what I know COVID19 can do to people I want to be vaccinated. But like so many things in my life what I want is not as easy as just taking. The problem here is that the appointment will be too far away and in a building which will cause me panic. I just cannot do it.

Some would right point out that were I to become ill and be hospitalised it would be way worse than the panic of getting the jab. I understand that. It makes sense when you do not have to go through the panic yourself. I just can't do it. This would not be me being fine until stepping in a building. This would be me rolled up in panic just getting there and ultimately turning back for sure. It is that horrible an experience to endure. I just can't do it. Neither option removes the dread. For now that envelope will remain unopened. 

I am not a stupid person. I am being offered a vaccine against a killer virus. Why would I not take up the offer? That is how bad this anxiety can be. That is how bad it is at the moment. A couple of years ago I would have had it done without any problem. Its bad timing. I have since learned that the appointment can be re-arranged to a different place but the 3 which are offered are still too far away. I need to try to keep myself far from it until I can get on top of my anxiety problems once again. 

Explosion

  

I should say first that something happened, it game me a scare but I was completely fine. I am not naturally melodramatic but I do think since my anxiety problems started I am prone to scaring more easily than I used to. Anxiety attaches to everything. 

A moment which felt like forever but was only a second at most. An instance of fear and a narrative constructed to match it. An explosion. I stood motionless with terror for that tiny eternity fearing the worse. I had been making the boy a burger for lunch and as always at the end toasted the bun and burger in the oven. The timer pinged, I opened the oven door and there was an explosion. Loud and with force. I saw the sections of burger fly out and I felt wetness on my legs. That was what brought the terror. Wetness. Blood? I did not want to look. A hundred different images from the big screen filled my head of what I would see- torn trousers ripped apart, wounds and more. If I didn't look I was OK but I had to look and did I see what I feared? 

No. As it turns out it was not blood but Pepsi Cola that saturated my bottom half. Honestly my heart was racing so much. The girls have lately been getting up during the night and helping themselves to juice. Fizzy juice that is. Loads of diluting there but they only crave the fizzy stuff. The memory came to me of my wife saying she was hiding the big bottle of Pepsi in the oven before bed. Why the oven of all places? My plan was to move it somewhere else but I forgot then and it had long gone from memory today when I turned the oven on. No harm done in the end except a ruined lunch and a half hour for me cleaning up and scrubbing the oven. I despair sometimes. 

The Duke

  

Last week the Duke of Edinburgh died at the ripe old age of 99 years old. It's a sad day when anyone dies but may be more poignant when it's all over every TV channel. I have to say first that I had no opinion on the Royal family and to be honest no interest. That lack of opinion works on both sides. As much as I have nothing positive to say I have nothing negative to say either. They are just there and I look no further than that. The only times I can remember any more than that all revolved around Diana. I remember my mum and her sister sitting on the floor crying in front of the TV watching the live coverage of wedding of Charles and Diana. I remember the strange numbness of the day she died. And I remember the strange feeling going through the tunnel in Paris where she died. Other than that nothing.

On the Duke my opinion has been pretty blinkered. My opinion of him has been forged by satirical comedy. I've taken no interest in him but would always hear jokes at his expense as he was generally painted as a blithering old racist and bigot in comedy circles. His gaffes are legendary like asking a driving instructor in Scotland how he kept the locals off the booze long enough to teach them. They were the source of many an email meme in the early days of Internet before social media. How many were true I don't know. 

That was my opinion of him until I watched the BBC documentary about his like today. It made me feel a little small-minded not to have given him more of my time. A war hero, an environmentalist, a champion of the young and a tireless charity worker who worked well beyond retirement age. Not perfect but who is? A life truly well lived. His selflessness really came to mind when I read many negative comments today with the word "parasite" used. Disgusting really. He was from a different generation who was more prone to speak its mind. I don't claim to understand that generation any more than I understand the younger generation today. They are both different from each other and different from my own. Those differences do not detract from all the good he did. I did the Duke of Edinburgh award at school and remember how great it felt to achieve something. I'd actually like to read or watch more now. I'm just sorry I left it so long to find out he was not the man I though he was. 

Fool's gold

  

At the weekend I went down the park on a mission. I needed a motivator and I had one. There is a local online newspaper which mostly runs on Facebook. It used to be very good but now though it has gone down the road of wanting cash for some articles otherwise they are hidden. It is not so good. I will say its only a couple of pound I think a month and that money does go to charity but I disagree with that line entirely. It gets enough donations as it is. The guy who runs it has had all elements paid for by donations. Why then hide articles from people who cannot afford it as many cannot? Look at how many people are using food banks. And even if you can afford it you may not like making online payments. For certain members of society the process might be too much for them as well. 

Anyway I'll read the free stuff from time to time and the other day I noticed a story about a sinkhole which had opened up in the local park. Not surprising in an old mining town. So I went down the park to take pictures and have a wee look. I got a good walk, more than I planned. On and on I walked about unable to find it, or even evidence of it. Disappointing. When I got back I told my wife and she laughed: that was an April Fool. Typical. I looked again and the article was indeed from the first of the month. It did at least get me out. 

Purpose. It is so important when having to do something repetitively. It can be a mind number just the thought of getting out the door to do the same walks day after day. Tedious. Finding a reason to do them helps. OK the ultimate reason I do them is to get better and also to stop my world shrinking. Sometimes that is not enough of a spark which is where the camera came in handy years ago. Its always good to have purpose. 

Ghost town

  

Once a hub it is now dead. The centre of town. Glasgow Road, the main road from town into the big city. Dead. I was the only person there, on foot at least. Plenty of people in cars passing through but no one stopping except for at traffic lights. Nowhere open so no reason really to linger. I'd like to say its down to lock down but that is only a part. It was a ghost town before then. Old photos circulate of crowds and happy faces and night life. Nothing now and I fear after lock down still nothing. Businesses shut forever, the ones not crushed the first time around by the arrival of the big supermarket. I wonder how many town centres will go the same way given the shift in lock down to shopping online. I wonder if things ever will be the same again. I seriously doubt it. 

A year in the wilderness

  

Is it a year already since the PM announced that the country would go into lockdown? It is. To me though it feels a lot longer. I am not sure why but it does. It feels like a lifetime ago that people were clapping for the NHS on their doorsteps. Those nights I walked through deserted streets with the dog feeling like the lone wanderer from the "Fallout" series feel even more distant. So much so that it is all a little foggy. I remember the chill when walking down the park and seeing the kids play area taped off like a crime scene with covid warnings not to touch. Again though it feels more than a year ago. And still a year from now we cannot say for sure where we will be as the likes of France and Italy extend their lockdown while bracing for a possible 3rd wave on the continent.

Yesterday the land fell silent for a minute to remember the near one hundred and fifty thousand lives that have been lost since the start of the pandemic. That figure unfortunately continues to grow. And at night people are asked to hold a light vigil from their doorstep to mark the loss on what has been called a "day of reflection". We should reflect of course but its also difficult when this episode is still ongoing and its end uncertain. One day it will be over I am sure and that is when I think as a nation we can truly reflect. 

The Terror

 

" The Terror "

There are so many online streaming services at the moment it is hard to keep up. Among it all its easy to forget that the BBC has a lot of free content too- for licence payers at least. Having a love of adventures at sea whether it be a Wilbur Smith trilogy or my favourite read "Sea wolf" by Jack London I am akways drawn to the sea. After seeing a trailer of "The Terror" based on the book by Dan Simmons which I have not read I was drawn further. That work of fiction was itself based on fact following John Franklin's ill fated voyage to uncover the North West passage- the last foggy area on the world map.

It was fascinating. The artist licence granted irked a bit but otherwise it felt really authentic. Some of the scenes of sprawling icescapes with the Northern lights were spectacular. The sense of desolation was felt. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

It got me thinking about why I am drawn to the sea. It is afterall just water sitting on land. Something draws me though. Maybe its in the blood. When researching my family my oldest direct relative was a marine engineer who drowned. Some of his descendants worked at sea. My uncle worked on trawlers. Do we inherit something from our forefathers?

Last note. The photo above is of course neither the Terror or Erabus. It is the RRS Discovery docked in Dundee next to the V&A building. I was there 4 years ago when movement was more free. 

School Day

  

A quarter of a year had passed since the last normal school day. So long ago I had to ask as I could not remember. The younger girl has been back doing a 2 or 3 days a week, depending on the week, for the last few weeks. The boy though told me his last day had been December. That is quite a gap. I didn't realise it had been so long. This pandemic period has made time skewed and I think most of us will look back trying to find what happened in periods of lost time. Yesterday though he returned for one day a week until Easter when the plan is to have all school children back full time. Today was a taste of that. He really enjoyed seeing friends he had not seen for so long but as its staggered there are some he still will not see for another month. Its a start though.

It was a great coincidence that it coincided with an unusually warm bright day. It was good to see kids smiling walking back from school in the sun. Maybe some glimmer of a turn in the fight against covid. Or maybe not. Only time will tell but it felt like a start. 

Panic at home

  

I woke on Monday morning with a feeling of impending doom. It was there in the darkness making me physically squirm and finally get up to let in the light. This though only took the edge off it. The doom remained. Even now I don't know why but thankfully its been a while. Because its been a while it started to lead into panic. I was awake alone, had to take the dog out and came back still unable to shake this apprehensive anxiety. It brought about sweats. My wife and youngest girl were due up for school. I felt hemmed in. Nowhere to escape to with this rising panic when I need to be alone. I had to get the boy up shortly after for home schooling. It accelerated and agitation grew and I got more and more restless then suddenly it stopped. More than that though I knew I was fine. Unlike most past times when the threat remained this time I was OK, reassured of no repeat.

It got me to questioning when my last panic attack was. I can't remember. Certainly I have had less in the past year. That is ironic really. Where most have had their mental health challenged in lockdown my own has been helped. Why? Because outdoor life has been restricted I've had less situation to panic. When it was quiet outside it helped. Of course this is not a long term help because when the mad world returns to crowds the panic will return. For now though it has helped. 

Until December last year I really had a hard time mentally with dread. I think this could have been an echo of that. Things didn't just go from very bad to good overnight. Those feelings are etched into my body and mind. The waking in dread soaked in sweat feeling there was no way out. The feeling of suffocation. Just the darkest of places which bizarrely brought about an acceptance because I realised it was out of my hands. Those effects don't just disappear. These I feel are memories of that. The effects are long lasting. Even now I am reluctant to check my bank account online fearing there will be nothing in it and its months since I did so. That was a fear that was with me for a long time and I just cannot shake it despite there being no danger now even if there was nothing in the account. 

All these months on I thought the good news in December would see me striding back to wellness where I was a few years ago but it hasn't. I cannot explain why. This episode of panic is not new lately and my fear is its getting more regular. Because I went so far back my world has shrunk and with that anxiety grows each day. So I must return to the CBT which helped me so much previously. I cannot afford to sit back and allow my world to be swallowed again. I need to push on now and try to just ride the waves that are coming.

Monkey puzzle

 

" Monkey puzzle "

My wife had to go to the chemist today so I walked the dog with her to get some fresh air. It was a lovely day. As we approached I kept my distance as there is a limit to 3 people allowed in so invariably a little queue outside. The dog barked enough from over the road so getting closer would have been no fun for anyone. To pass the time I looked about. I'm not one for standing looking into a phone for stimulus. When out I prefer to take it all in.

My attention was grabbed by a big tree in a garden. I knew it to be a Monkey puzzle tree. I don't know about trees but I'd read about this years ago in a local article. There are actually a number of them in town. After reading about them I seemed to notice more and more. The origins of the name? Apparently it came from an observation by someone that a monkey would find the tree a puzzle to climb owing to its strange shape. It is a thing of interest. It sticks out, it looks foreign and yet most would walk past it without noticing it due to having their faces caught in the glare of a social media screen. It is apparently the national tree of Chile and native to South America. Its a wonder as to how it firstly ended up here and secondly seems to thrive. It does look like something from another land. 

Grandfather

 

" Grandfather "

Today, strangely, would have been my grandfather's 103rd birthday if he had lived that long but sadly nowhere near it as he was 66 years old when he died. Paternal grandfather that is. It all seems so long ago now as I was just a child but I can still remember that shrill screech piercing through me as he sharpened knives on the concrete steps. And those are the memories I hold dearest. I blank out the last years of deterioration and his epic fight to cling on. He was a fighter. He'd been on 3 different boats that had been sunk - quite literally a Jonah my uncle would say. I have his medical report from when he was plucked out the North Sea with hyperthermia. My gran told me of the difficult months after. But he was a fighter. His dad died before he was one and by all accounts his step father beat him to the point that he joined the army at his first opportunity. His difficult times were just beginning but that is a take for another day.

What saddens me is that I did not get enough time with him. Or at least time I remember. From a very young age he and my gran took me on holiday each year. Always seaside towns in Scotland and England. I have the photos but not the memories. That though is more than my maternal grandfather though who I don't even have a photo of and most likely never will. He was killed in a traffic accident before I was born and had an equally eventful life having been born out of wedlock in Reading and adopted by a much older couple. Im not sure why he ended up in Scotland but presume it was the RAF which he worked in before joining the fire service then the prison service. I do wish I could put a face to what little I have on him but as I said that is very unlikely. 

Security

  

I do detest the faceless criminals hiding behind their keyboards looking for something for nothing but thankfully I have at least had few causes for concerns. And when my bank account was dry it was not a problem. It was only when I had savings at one point that I was robbed virtually but again that was a long time ago. Having some money coming in now has made me paranoid. I've not used my bank card outside because I fear a hack just as happened to my wife last year

I don't get "contactless". We have spent years trying to add more layers of security and then something comes along where you need no security at all. That confuses me. I could find someone's card in a shop and without knowing the pin code can use that card contactlessly at a checkout to buy shopping. I can't remember the limit but because of covid it was raised. That makes no sense to me. Its got me paranoid to the point I was considering opening up another bank account just for shopping and just transfer money online as needed. That though means accessing online more frequently which in my head means more chance of a hack. You can't win!

This all came to mind because I got up today to find many red letter alerts from Google on my phone. To me it was rather sinister. It wasn't something vague about updating security or about a possible breech. It was a message telling me in no uncertain terms that "someone knows your password". That felt very personal. Someone knowing that cannot harm me financially like they could if it was my bank but they can invade privacy. I think of someone sitting looking through pictures of the kids and the like. Can't be helped. Password changed now and all secure again- until next time. There is though a feeling of vulnerability there now as I am sure other people are feeling and that can lead to the paranoia I feel too. I don't like it but we have no choice. There is no other way it today's world unfortunately 

Grandmother

 

" Grandmother "

By law of nature we all have 4 natural grandparents somewhere down the tree even if they are not known. Of course nowadays that is a bit more clouded but in essence it's still the same however you look at it. Growing up I only knew one set of grandparents and they meant the world to me. They are sadly no longer with us but definitely never forgotten.

I barely knew my maternal grandmother. Some family fall out meant that last time I saw her wad 1983 when I was heading to be a teenager and not far off my own boy's age. Even up until that point I have very few memories of her. My biggest regret there is that I did not reach out to her. When she died in 2000, something I only found out much later at the registry office, I was living in the same town as her and had been for a few years. No point lamenting now.

My paternal grandmother would have been 97 years old today had she not lost her fight with lung cancer in 2004. She was the lynch pin keeping everything and everyone together. Shortly after her death all the family fell apart but it was not a surprise. It was inevitable which unfortunately was the only thing she wished not to happen. She is never far from my thoughts. I spent so much of my early life with her in Glasgow and she was kind throughout. I wish she'd lived a little longer to see the kids having died in between the birth of the two girls but by then my problems were esculating making visits a struggle. Even in hospital I only visited once saying I would return but couldn't. The funeral was extremely difficult and it would be over a decade after that day before I would make it to that part of the world again. 

Physics

  

I won't lie. When I prepared to home school I was really looking forward to it. It was an opportunity to work the grey matter and even learn a few things along the way. Mostly that has been the case. In fairness to the kids they get on with it on their own for the majority of the time. When they get stuck though I am only too happy to intervene.

It's a problem and I like to problem solve. I always have. When I did computer programming as much as I enjoyed the creative process of bringing something to life just from lines of code I also really enjoyed fault finding. If my program did not run as it should or produced an error I liked finding the problem and resolving it. Not always it has to be said. Modern computer languages make the fault finding process a pleasure. At college writing in COBOL it was more like doing spot the difference between pages of code where even a space could kill it. That was mentally draining. There were a few times when meany pupils and a teacher would surround one person's PC trying to find the tiny mistake that was in hiding. 

Today's problem was physics. My initial reaction was to rub my hands with glee. Something new to do, something new to learn. That joy was soon replaced with despair. I just couldn't get it. I don't know if it's age or an underused brain needing a jump start but I just could not work out these processes in my head. I muddled through eventually but didn't feel I had learned anything after. I was just glad to see the back of it and praying that it was an end of it for a long period of time. Its not as if its entirely new. I got a 'B' at high school in Physics. I started higher physics before leaving. It's in there somewhere but that was a very long time ago. 

I have noted in the past few years that my brain isn't working the way it should. A few years ago I got a voucher from my sister-in-law and decided to by a guide to programming in JAVA language. The idea was that I could then start to write apps for phones and maybe find some way either of making a living from it or by being employed remotely to write small apps. And I did it for a bit but it just was not sticking in my head like it used to and I started to get confused by it. I had better luck with programming in Android with Google's own development kit which is free. But even then I got so far and it started to outsmart me. Maybe I am just rusty. I have always liked programming so maybe I should go back to it and work at a slower pace. It might not get me employment but it will keep the grey matter alive with some much needed activity.

Strength

  

I was watching the show "Would I lie to you?" which is the modern equivalent of "Call my bluff". Straight out of the 80s Mr Motivator was on the show and his statement was something like: Every day I do press ups equal to the number of years of my life. True or false? I reckoned he was in his late 50s but he is looking well at 68. That is a lot of press ups daily.

A good few years back there was a Facebook challenge relating to the armed forces in which people did 20 press ups per day for 7 days and tagged someone else to do it each day. I had many friends doing it with apparent ease and when I was tagged I went to do the same but found I could not do one press up. That was a shock. For many years I did them for karate and football without a problem. Long story short I started a regime and within a few weeks got up to 12 before giving up. That was hard to take. I knew I wasn't as fit as I used to be but I was always stronger than I looked. I never carried any muscle but because of karate in particular I had a good centre and good strength. Struggling to do a single press up was a let down.

Back to the show. Mr Motivator can do it with ease and more. It put me to shame- in a good way. Its reminded me that I need to get fitter. I don't need to be at that level but I do need to increase my fitness and strength. It's something I plan to do like before with an app when the kids return to school. Along with walks I want to start press ups and sit ups again. These apps on phones are good for motivation. I feel confident it's something I will do and benefit from. 

Vaccine

  

My wife got her jab last week bright and early at the start of the queue.  I am glad she has some sort of immunity if not right now then in time. A few weeks ago I thought that the vaccine was enough to stop any worries but apparently  not. Firstly I heard a medical person on the radio saying it could take a week to build up immunity followed by someone later citing 2-3 weeks. Given the speed of no Vaccine to Vaccine with limited time for trials I would think the medical profession are learning something new about the virus and their vaccines every day. And that is without factoring in the strains we have now as well as those still to transpire. It is a real mix of concern and fascination as these boffins work around the clock to bring a peace of mind to the planet but also with risks that cannot be known. Those risks most would argue are trumped by having some sort of protection against this virus. 

Wife is done now as I say and the kids don't need it. That just leaves me. It's something I have been mulling over these past couple of months. When will I be offered it and will I be able to take up that offer? It plays in my mind. An offer is likely not going to come until the summer at its earliest depending on how well things are going with the roll out, Vaccine supplies and any deviations. I'm fine with that. It's the location that is the problem. It's very unlikely I can go to a vaccination centre given agoraphobia is as bad as its ever been. What then? Not a question needing answered today of course but it will arrive at some point. 

Its not a case of whether I want it or not. I do, 100%. Its just a case of logistics. I couldn't ask someone to come out to administer it when the groups vaccinating people are already working their backsides off. I will just have to wait and see how it plays out and hope in the meantime I can avoid contracting the thing. 

Horror

 

" Horror "

I never used to watch much TV but in recent years with so much at our fingertips I have found myself watching more and more. Its to the detriment of reading unfortunately so I do want to change that. At night time though when things quieten enough to concentrate I find watching appeals more than reading.

Like reading and music I don't like to pigeon hole myself. I'll watch a variety of things from real life documentaries to Sci fi shows and all in between. But about the only thing I don't watch is "Horror" and that is probably why I watch alone because its the main thing my wife and the girls watch. I can genuinely say I cannot remember a film of that genre I actually enjoyed and no for certain I've not seen anything scary. My wife always harks back to "Salem's lot" being scary but it's not, it's dated. And the three of them are continually disappointed as everything they watch turns out to be rubbish mostly and/or disappointing. That is the genre in my opinion but still they keep going back.

I don't know why that is. Do we see so much of it in real life that we are desensitised to anything on a screen? I think so. Horror got me into books. When I did not read at all I read "Funland" by Richard Laymon out of boredom. I read more by the author which led me to Anne Rice, Dean R Koontz, Stephen King of course and so many more before leading on to read other genres. I would still have no qualms reading horror but would have to be heavily compensated to watch it. It is easy it has to be said when there are so many quality TV shows being made but with all that I really cannot see the appeal of horror. Then again in my own home I am the minority so what do I know. 

Altered realities

 

So much of lockdown reflects my own life over the past decade or so. I feel that people are getting a small taste of what my life has been like. I went from having a job and starting a family to suddenly being housebound virtually out the blue struggling to support them. Most have been stuck indoors too and can see how the novelty of not working soon wears thin when it is countered by the inability to go out and enjoy that freedom. Many know now what it's like to struggle financially and have to swallow their pride many times for a handout to get by through no fault of their own. What looks like a good gig from afar is not when you are living it.

There are many similarities. Today I went for a walk nearby and felt a bit strange because its a route I have not gone for months and as a result it felt a little unreal. Coming back I bumped into my youngest girl who was going to meet her friend do I walked her there through the park. Something I used to do daily for the primary school run. Again it felt unreal. And that unreality is something a lot of people will now be experiencing in their life fir the first time as they start to venture back out to places they have not been for a while. 

Tacos

 

A quiet day today so I set about making some Tacos for the kids to try- and for my dinner. I made the kids Tacos for the first time last week with mixed results. They liked the filling but not so keen on the brittle corn shells. I can understand that. I've never been a fan either. And that has always been my idea of a taco. I've never had one made for me in a restaurant or elsewhere. When my brother was in California he sent pics of taco vans but I don't remember seeing the food. It was only when by chance I came across a video about the 5 best places to get Tacos in San Diego that I discovered it doesn't have to be that way. These Tacos were small tortillas rather than corn shells.

By chance the other night I'd found some of these small tortillas in the shops. As I said this was to be my dinner and as there were 10 tortillas is a packet I thought I'd be fine. I was sort of. I made one for the oldest to try and she enjoyed it so much she ate another 5. The boy enjoyed his too and thankfully as he'd had dinner he did not want any more. The other child slept through it- that is another story. I was left with 3. Thankfully I wasn't that hungry.

They don't look great from the photo but they did go down a treat. The shop does 3 packs for £3 so 30 "Street" tortillas will do a few meals along with mince, chilli seasoning and salad works out quite cheap too along with some chips. The one thing we have been trying to do more recently is get the kids all to eat the same thing as most nights they were all having something different which is more time consuming and costly. In order to make one meal for all we are trying to vary it a bit and try to get more veg in their diet however small. 

Music lesson

  

Today's lesson is... Music. Well it was one of the lessons, the last one. No input from me this time. I was displaced this time from teacher to cameraman. I mean you can't have a music teacher who is tone deaf and has no coordination. I love music of all kinds and I have always had a burning desire to play an instrument. Unfortunately though I wasn't built for it. You have naturals, you have disciplined and you have those who excel by possessing both. When I tried to play guitar I found I had 10 thumbs. When I tried drums I was like a scattergun trying to find a metronomic rhythm. I just don't have the capacity. One year my wife was going to get me piano lessons for my birthday specifically to learn "Moonlight Sonata" because she knew I liked it so much. Not a chance though. I just cannot do it. 

Its been a mixed bag schooling the kids from home. I've helped where I can but mostly they crack on with it themselves. I have also enjoyed learning some things too so its not all been bad and has put some sort of routine into our day in these strange times. 

When it comes to music though thankfully my kids are not the same. For the second time in life as a parent I found myself listening for a moment while one of my children played. The first time was the oldest. She taught herself how to play keyboard and like her grandfather has an ear for music allowing her to hear something and play it by ear. She played Moonlight Sonata. It was wonderful. Today it was her sister's turn.

We have an acoustic guitar in the cupboard and I even bought a cheap harmonica last week but none were viable options for music class. Instead my wife had to take daughter to school yesterday to pick up an instrument. She came back with a glockenspiel. It's been months since she played it she said but today had to get back to playing Katy Perry's "Firework". I left her to it. It took only about 15 minutes to find her stride. Except it was a different song. She had got mixed up. Instead it was "Carnaval de Paris". That was unexpected. That really took me back to Paris 1998. It was everywhere I went. It was nice. Nice because it was familiar from a happy time and all the nicer because it was now a happier time albeit it different. Definitely the best part of the week. 

Wildcat

 

I was reading an article today about a proposal to re-introduce the lynx to Scotland which on the face of it I was for. I like the idea of going back to the way things were before man intervened. I remember reading a book about the history of Scotland and the author lamenting about a particular landscape looking beautiful to most but it saddened him because hundreds of years earlier the barren hills would have been filled with trees. I like the idea that there was a balance before we selfishly came along here and everywhere else on the planet to spoil it with our own needs and greeds.

So I was reading through the article and early on came to a line saying the lynx had been extinct in Britain for 500 years, I think that varies on where you read it. Strange. I thought I had taken a picture of one in captivity. I looked back and found the above photo from 2015 taken at Calderglen zoo in East Kilbride. Not a lynx but a Scottish wildcat. What then, if any, is the difference? 

It turns out they are very different and now a dilemma: save the Scottish wildcat or reintroduce the Lynx? I am all for going back to our roots as I said but not if it means turfing out another species in the process. It's a big debate, too big for here. The bottom line is reintroduced lynx is a random factor. No one seems to know what affect it will have on the wildcats native to Scotland which are apparently on the brink of exctinction as it is with numbers estimated to be less than 300. As well as the ones at the zoo above there are captive cats all over the UK in the likes of the Highland Wildlife Park and Chester zoo among others. For me that is not a risk worth taking but it's a debate. If nothing else it was nice reading about wildlife which is not something I'm prone to do. There are some beautiful nature programs by the BBC but I never see them. Its given me a bit of an appetite for that if nothing else. 

Showdows of the past

  

I find myself increasingly thinking about people locally I have not seen in a long time. Lockdown meant there were many people we did not see for months. In my case it was the school run, the shops or just out for walks. Many people I do not actually know I maybe gave a nod or a wave to. And given how many people lost their lives since the pandemic started there is a concern that there may be some once familiar faces in among them. Of course no doubt in the coming months I will probably see some of those I thought were gone.

One person who I do know is gone is "Auld Michael". He was a walker. I used to meet him sometimes and chat mostly about different walks here and he would tell me of some further afield. My wife actually knew him better and longer because when she worked in the Sport Centre he used to come in. And that is why I know he is passed now to COVID-19. My wife read of it on Facebook. He was funny. The last time we spoke I had to walk slightly ahead as we had the dog and he was going nuts as usual. Michael was telling my wife how he and his wife had been in Dublin and they were looking for a church they could not locate. He asked a local man the quickest way to get to this church and the man asked him if he was driving or walking. When he said driving the local replied: that's the quickest way.

But for every Michael there will be 10 others who are fine or more. The strange thing is there is a couple of times I thought I had seen him from a distance until I learned of the news. And yet part of me still expects it somehow. Like a friend and colleagues of my wife who I used to see too but died with cancer at the start of the pandemic. This is something maybe others are experiencing now. I used to have memory lapses about people when agoraphobia was severe. One time I could not remember how many kids my sister had- briefly I should say. I couldn't remember if my brother in laws parents had both died or whether it was just one. This happens when you get cut off and disconnected. I've had it for years but I am sure not through lockdown many others will be experiencing it. 

Its a strange old time and we are all trying to readjust again. Its not easy for anyone but for sure lots of had it very hard with this horrible virus whether directly or indirectly. Personally I feel blessed that so far we have not had anything to complain about. 

A photograph

 

Maybe it's Jenna. Maybe not. If not then who? Does it matter? No. I did find this photograph at the top of the stairs where I found that card. They could be connected. All else that is there is a dual carriageway so how did it get there?

At some time what looks like a young mother and her daughter posed for that snap. At least I think so it could have been a selfie. Snaps did used to mean something. We would treasure them because we paid to get them developed. Now 99% of what we all shoot I would say does not leave the digital realm onto paper. A through away snap then is maybe not as strange as it would have been a few decades ago. Yet this looks personal. It does not look like something that should be discarded and left for all to see. Sad in a way. 

Frances

  

When you try not to get too personal but need to for a subject matter it can be quite difficult to find the balance. There are things I think are OK but others might disagree. There are things too personal or even irrelevant. Opinions open to interpretation or biased too much in my own favour. Family can be a minefield in this medium. In the early days I used to post about the kids a lot but they are of an age now where they don't even like their picture being taken so I try to leave them out of it. 

And so I deliberated over this post for a number of reasons but here goes. The kids have been fortunate in that up until last year they had never known loss. They did lose an "aunt" but they had very little contact with her, she was actually their grandfather's aunt and they were too young to feel much of an impact. Last year was different. Last year they lost their maternal grandmother who was a very major figure in their life. She'd had her cancer diagnosis the year before and finally passed away in January of last year surrounded by her immediate family. The drawing above of her with my wife (her 3rd daughter) was drawn by my oldest so very much a 3 generational work.

The kids were devastated but not to the same degree as my wife who is still struggling a year on as they were very close. I don't think she will ever get over it. And I dont think the full impact has hit the kids yet but will in the coming years as she was their for all their major days in their lives. But with lockdown arriving shortly after this surreal limbo in between has meant they have not been up to their grandparents home often. It will take time. 

I will keep my part short and incomplete. I still can't get it into my head she is gone as she was there the last time I went north just like every other time over the past 20+ years. The only time I saw her after her diagnosis was at my home for a short visit one day. I didn't see the cruel deterioration this awful disease brings with it. I wasn't able to attend the funeral and that did not go down well so I have to carry that guilt with me. I also as a result did not get to see me son and his cousin give readings at the funeral which was a remarkable thing. For me she is still there and might always be because there are no guarantees I will ever get back up there. Its hard to process it really. 

What is done is done though and cannot be undone so I accept and move on but I doubt others will be as forgiving. I accept that too as it's not something I have the power to change. I would say it will drive me on to recovery again but my will has never changed and the outcome has never been shaped by effort. I just have to accept and hope that in time I'll get up north again to pay my respects as I intend to because I want to not because I am expected to