Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The Shared Road - A week in Málaga!



On what goes on here really, not much! It's just Eat Meds Sleep...Sounds like a boring bar.. 'EMS' come for the food and drugs, sleep it off on the premises!

It was Mother's Day in the UK last Sunday; I remember so few really, memories do that... I remember eating in an Italian place in Berkhamsted with my boys and one of their girls... and mom, and receiving a beautiful bracelet they had bought for me, it was either 2001 or 2002... Unfortunately I remember the one that took place between my mom passing and her cremation vividly. Franco and I spent the day with Tony and Kate, we went to Silverstone and Kate tore around that track, on foot! It was cold, the wind was bitter, and the stands were uncovered for the winter! and my heart was frozen...

Then this year.... my heart... Oh! Take my meds!! ✓ Lol... Yes mom, your parting gift, my broken heart, don't think these meds will keep it from shattering now into a billion pieces. And I will remember us being here in Málaga hospital...

...We can't ever cover up bad memories with good another time, we can only try to make sure we keep the good ones upper most in our minds, and keep making more? How? I know I will, which makes me sadder still, but I've always been a firm believer that we carry those we love and have lost with us at all times and they share what we see through our eyes... (am I stupid...? Don't answer me on that!).

And I am now constantly trying to tell myself... These are not the memories to cling to, the past fourteen months while Franco has been getting sicker and sicker... none of this time has been memory making time... Yes we've had some good days..  Sons wedding! Barry and Heidi... Little Cassie beautiful day.. although Francos absence in 99.9% of the photographs speaks volumes... Even our much wanted sleepover in Málaga, dogged by how Franco was feeling and being unable to even get to the nearby port, one of Francos favorites spots. But all the way through this whole time it's been a rush here or there, pain, doctors appointments, scans, more rushing and more illness, more pain... Every trip out, even to a local supermarket, all the way back to December before last... and before that, back in UK, Franco visited the doctor, first time in fourteen years... Other than a broken leg and stitch or two! Vitamin D definency and 'you need to see a physio'... er NO!!! Wrong!!! It was stomach and back pain... First signs...

Our wonderful Christmas lunch at the Kiosko, I don't want to remember that as much as our thousands of trips up to those lakes and the Kings Walk... When we were living our dream... and now, that's probably the last time we will have gone there... I would rather in retrospect not gone... But Franco wanted to, so that's how I will remember, and remember I will.

Franco did go down to the surgery yesterday, and came out again with the catheter in place still, it had needed adjustment, it was, and we were back in the room by lunchtime!

Our neighbour has gone and his kind and generous family with him! We have been left with the essentials, water, chocolate and cake! An invite to their shop in Arriate, a favorite village of ours but never stopped for meat before! Next time! I went a bit loco and Tweeted and Facebook'd and G+ their shop!! Seriously good genuine people... and can only repay them by sharing their information...

We are presently enjoying a peaceful time in an unshared room... A little too quiet, but won't push our luck! We're sure a whole bunch of people in observation are awaiting a bed for the night, so come one come all, new friends to make! More Spanish to practice!

A nice couple have arrived, he is being settled in now by his wife, sampling the first rate three course dinner and in-house facilities!  (This should not be taken in a sarcastic manner.)

I don't know what I would do without my family and friends, even complete strangers sometimes, going out of their way at this time in our lives... angels without wings I've said it before, and still today...

I also know I have some inbuilt safety thing, an innate self something or other... Even as sad as bad as depressed as bottom of the pit of life I feel right now when I went into the visitors toilet in front of half a dozen men seated outside I had the urge to come out and do a funny 'dance off stage' dance thing... I didn't!

But that spark that tiny flame that still burns in my very being still fueled my soul of life, of life of living... and I feel guilty... because of that, and even though all I can see is only darkness and dark days and a blank page a 'this road is closed' sign...

And it's not right, we have preset memories in-waiting in place of stuff we want to do, places on our list to visit, a whole package of up-to and after retirement to un-pack! I'm angry!


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