I am moved by Lady Percy 's expression of love. CLICK HERE - see if you agree.
Otherwise my novels, short stories, verse, family, music, memories, vulgar interests, detestations,
responses, apologies. I hold posts to 300 words* having found less is better than more.
I re-comment on comments and re-re-re-comment on re-re-comments.
* One exception: short stories.

Saturday, 30 November 2013

Reduced to simple messages

Brother Nick, the youngest of the three of us, has succumbed to Alzheimer and can no longer look after himself alone at home. Sir Hugh visited him in his new "place" and came away greatly saddened. We'll get there somehow but we're much further away.

One terrible affliction is Nick finds himself awash in long tracts of text. Some time ago he asked to see Gorgon Times but was unable to read it; phoned to apologise. Ah, shit; he didn't have to

Having experimented I find I can create picture postcards on the computer. The above is part of a selection based on photos taken in happier times: the three of us on Nick's yacht, Takista, cruising off the south Brittany coast. I'll send them to him with simple messages.

If you click to enlarge you'll see Nick giving me the vee-sign in response to some smart-ass remark I made. I didn't mind a bit but I'd also like to think it represented what he thinks about Alzheimer.

The lack of mushy sentiment here must not be taken for lack of feeling.


marja-leena said...

Oh Roderick, how sad it is to have your younger brother afflicted so. Creating photo postcards for him wtih little stories of past happy times is a wonderful thing to do, to to help him remember.

All the best to you and your family,

mike M said...

Don't underestimate your ability to convey,RR. The feeling is very much evident.

The Crow said...

J can only echo what the others have written, Robbie, especially Mike's last sentence.

Very sorry this heartbreak has hit you three musketeers, and your families.

Beth said...

Very sad, and yet the postcard idea is brilliant and touching. Best to all three of you.

Joe Hyam said...

Alzheimer's is sad for everyone but perhaps saddest for those who are close. To have seen my Mother, a bright and kind person, fade into the state you describe, was a period of prolonged pain for me and my brothers. Sympathies to you and Sir Hugh. Allow yourselves space for sentiment if not for mush.

Roderick Robinson said...

All: Reading your valuable comments I became aware of your sympathy's geographic "width". There was added poignancy there.

Recently I had reason to direct someone to the short story I wrote about an elderly East German woman working in a gent's lavatory in Hamburg. I note I apologised in advance for using "semi-naughty" words. In fact they were associated with characteristic dialogue and probably required no apology.

Here I used one on my own behalf. Since I am not sustained by any belief in a super-natural after-life or any beneficent plan on behalf of me and mine, I felt the need to spit in the eye of the things that go wrong randomly. I don't normally resort to swear-words hoping to be able to make use of a wider vocabulary. And by present-day standards this one is comparatively familiar. It just seemed to fit.

Rouchswalwe said...

Thank goodness Nick has two very caring brothers on his side. Sending messages on these postcards is a wonderful idea, and I'm glad we live in a time in which these things are possible. I'll keep all of you in my heart and thoughts.

Roderick Robinson said...

RW (zS): I appreciate your feelings. Logistics is something of a bastard: Sir Hugh lives 80 miles away from Nick, I live 233 miles away. Mercifully, Katie, Nick's loving daughter, lives in the same town. We'll see.

Blonde Two said...

The family Blonde Two has also been touched by Alzheimer's. I usually have lots of words about it mostly sad ones, but I think you got it just right. Sometimes least said is more.

Roderick Robinson said...

B2: The second time in our wider family. One is left looking at a shell that is, but isn't, the person you know. I'm not given to religious concepts but it's as if the soul had gone first. Just about the most poignant sense of loss ever devised; we are left doing the thinking.