The Written Word

Hi all,


Have you ever had a feeling that there is something that you want to do but you're too scared to try it in case you aren't any good? What am I saying? Of course you have...at least if you are someone like me who has always had a few self-esteem issues!


Over the years I have thought of trying to write something with the idea of getting it published. I love - well, I enjoy - writing and I always have done. I was always good at English at school and pretty hopeless at maths. Not much has changed. I have always been able to turn my hand to a verse or two of rhyming words without much trouble. I know that I can put my feelings down on paper much easier than I can sit and tell someone all about 'stuff'. I think that is because I don't want to be put on the spot or questioned. Many is the time that I have sat for hours over a letter to a loved one, desperately trying to find the right words without sounding preachy or superior and many is the time that those letters have never seen the light of day because I was too worried to send them for fear of hurting someone.


During our house move I have found many, many letters that I had forgotten all about. I have found letters that my nan wrote to me when I was away at school. She used to write to me every week, bless her. I found letters from my sister  and letters from my brother from my brother when he was in the RAF. I found letters from Mum and letters from my Dad's mum to my Mum when she was in hospital after having my sister. I spent a long, long time re-reading those letters and, in the end, I had to put them away because I was losing all track of time.


Those letters reminded me again of the power of the written word and I think it is the power of those words that is the reason that I am so passionate about this blog. I really look forward to writing the updates but I don't spend any time at all on thinking about the content until I actually start to type. I'm sure that will not surprise anyone who has read any of these entries as I do tend to wonder from topic to topic. Quite unintentional but it happens all the same!


I have long wanted to have a go at writing something meaningful, something that I care about and something that I know about but I'm not sure what. People have always said that my life couldn't be made up, that if it was put forward as a storyline for Eastenders, it would be turned down for being too farfetched and unbelievable. t's true that there have been some dramas and I would love to be able to write down all that I can remember but I'm not sure that it would be of any interest to anyone other than myself. I would also have to be wary of upsetting people, especially much loved family members, by rabbiting on in a carefree way, prattling on about something that may cause hurt to people. And, of course, it's not only family. I have been privileged to have been a part of the lives of some wonderful people through my work, many of whom are no longer with us. While my feelings for them and the memories that I have of them are wonderful and precious to me, I couldn't write about them because they are so personal. But that is why I really DO want to write about them...because they are so personal.


I read the other day that there are very few books written about caring for the elderly from the perspective of a family member. I have no idea if this is true. I can imagine that there a thousands of books written on dementia, Parkinsons, etc. etc., books written from a medical perspective but are there many books written by the family members who have spent years caring for, and often nursing, their elderly relatives? I would think that the whole process of caring for a loved one is so fraught with anxiety, stress and worry that, in the end, when it is all over, the last thing that the carer wants to do is to write a book about their experiences. I should think that the vast majority of them just want to try to get their lives back on track while they still can.


My experiences as a carer, and not for my own relatives thankfully, have been, at times, overwhelming and also frustrating. I have been blessed to have worked with wonderful families and been made to feel part of those families. I have been inspired by the bravery and stoicism of the families who, despite whatever gets thrown at them, carry on doing the very best for their loved ones. I have cried with the people I am caring for and with their families when things have gone wrong and, boy, have I laughed when things have been good. I have felt almost as proud as a parent when any of my young charges achieved something incredible - from concentrating long enough to throw a ball to graduating from  university with top honours. I've sat in childrens wards and in intensive care units trying, usually unsuccessfully, to support family members when their loved one has been ill.


But I AM a parent, a very proud one too and all of my experiences through work have gone alongside my family and their wonderful achievements. Very often I have been caught up in some drama at work when my own family have had their own crisis going on and I have often found it difficult to  decide where I should be. An example? Should I stay with the dying client who had gone home for his last few days and whose family needed support or should I go and sit with my mother in law who was also dying and where I could offer support to my husband and his family? This actually happened and I think, in the end, I split myself in two but did spend more time where I felt that I could make more of a difference.


Do you see what I mean about having no plan when I start typing?! My brain really does wander all over the place doesn't it?


Anyway, maybe one day I will make a concentrated effort to make a plan and set about writing something. I don't have a very vivid imagination so whatever I write will have to be based loosely on fact and experience.


Maybe, one day.....




Much love xxx