I hope that your visit tomorrow goes as well as it might, Scaredycat. I hope your overdoing it day doesn't cost too much on the morrow...
Doodle - That is an enormous stop forward - well done on working on that concentration to read. What are you fining you most can concentrate on reading - I'd be interested to know.
That sounds like a fab time with the family, Sweetpeasue, but no wonder you are all done in.
I have been in my nightie all day: slept: yes the paper heap is now shrunk, and some plans made: my DS contacted me 5ish evening and he is coming to a conference next Tuesday so will stay at mine and we'll get a natter in when he comes here.
DS all to myself, It just never happens because really of DGD, L has always got to have someone with her so...
It means getting the futon out of the attic, as I have 2 bedrooms so bedroom 2 is sort of crafts/clothes storage as no room for that in my sunny back bedroom. (He'll drop off to sleep on anything).
It wasn't quite like that with my Mum. You see, we all expected her to recover when she was in the stroke unit
My Doc sis fully expected her to recover and went away on holiday for 2 weeks abroad and so on.
Also she didnt ask me, which is just as well as I was in one of my most depressive periods at the time tho I never, ever let on, but she was closer to my younger sis and bro anyway - but I drove over to see her alone twice a week or with then DH. then what happened was she suddenly had another stroke, was back in hospital not the unit.
I was the only one to visit at that time by coincidence; the last family member: the only one with any faith too (she didnt).
She had lost her speech and was tearing and clutching at the bedclothes angrily (or frustration - who can know?).
She managed to say to me "I want to go" No-one will ever know what she meant, but I just held her hand and said, I know, its OK.
She then died the next night and we all knew what her life would be like to her had she survived - horrendous. She'd been so very active and mentally all there.
Oh my I am so glad she never had known I'd tried to take my own life (70 paracetamol) a year before) and never known how bad I was.
So well I sort of feel - glad I did what I was able to? Not sad: glad she didn't have to live with the appalling situation she had fallen to.