When this incredible journey began a friend remarked that, "It must be extraordinarily hard." Those words have stayed with me as I traverse the many byways and cul-de-sacs the events of 08/08/2008 have led us into.
It is extraordinarily hard to keep on keeping on, to keep a positive attitude and lift another's spirits even as your own are crashing through the floor.
When my own father suffered a stroke I felt equally powerless to do anything, a futility borne out of my distance from him and my mother as they struggled to cope with the devastating effects of stroke.
Mother used to phone and I could hear the weariness in her voice. Then she would put my father on the phone while she went off to busy herself with what I now know are the unseen aspects of caring for someone: preparing meals, washing clothes, doing the housework or the garden. All those normal activities that are suddenly a burden because you are doing them alone, your partner being unable to perform those mundane tasks alongside you and so turn them from chores to shared experiences.
While my mother was doing this my father would unburden his soul to me. He would tell me how he only felt half the man he was, how the holes in his mind and his memories had diminished his sense of himself. I came to realise that this was now my role, to bear witness to these dark depressions and, in sharing them, lighten his load a little. I soon learnt that he kept these gloomy thoughts from everyone but me as he struggled to lighten the burden upon my mother, to keep a cheery face for her and my sister.
I now know his loneliness only too well. I cannot share my moments of despair with Jo and if I unburden myself to anyone else I only increase their sense of frustration and powerlessness in being able to help me cope.
Truly we live this life alone and all we can do is keep going.
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