Very very touching.
I’m walking home from the hospital in the rain along Edinburgh Road in Carntyne. Grey, overcast, a storm ahead and with no way to prevent my partner’s decline, nothing to stop it happening. Human beings are weak and we are small, we are powerless and at the mercy of the elements, the forces of nature, the cycle of life and death.
He’s not getting any better, he’s not going to get better. The words go round and round as if repetition makes them easier to accept. The end is not imminent, it’s not today or tomorrow, and we will bring him home – but vascular dementia is terminal, and terminal illnesses terminate. Every day that passes brings the final day closer, the last bridge to cross, the last chapter of the story is being written, and today I realised I am already mourning for a life that is draining away…
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