Rough as old boots - In the name of Thiago - Day 29
It was wonderful to
catch up with old friends but once again as so often seems to be the case, it
was Elisa that made the evening. I love that cheeky little toerag so much: she
has an incredible character just like her little brother did. One of Elisa’s
highlights last night was the pleasure she took from telling our hosts about
the star jump penalty system she imposes on me.
Essentially, if Elisa
hears me swear, she penalises this behaviour by giving me 20 star jumps. I don’t
have to do them immediately and until last night I was up into four figures for
star jumps ‘owing’. I managed to bang out a few inspired by one too many craft
ales and somehow Janine managed to get Elisa to knock off a further 100 for
reasons I can’t quite remember. Persuasive lady Janine.
On to today and Angelica
and I had a serious heart to heart while out walking around Tittesworth
Reservoir, where my Dad was the main topic of conversation. Since I brought him
back from Chester on Wednesday, he’s not been well at all. I was getting really
frustrated with him and I’ve had the same conversations with my sister Holly and
my brother Judd about how his health is very draining for the family.
But I’m aware that this
makes me sound like a right dick. So the first step was that I’ve made my peace
with Dad today as he’s lying in his sickbed. The main problem with Dad is that
he’s never taken any responsibility for his health. He experiences terrible
pain through a case of diverticulitis that he was hospitalised with in Melbourne
before he returned to the UK in October, which comes coming back. Because he’s
not so good at helping himself, it’s then left to other family members to pick
up the pieces.
I’ve been showing a
terrible lack of compassion though, which isn’t good enough. I’m sure my
personal grieving has had a lot to do with this but it’s time for me to do the
best I can for my Dad and just hope against hope that he starts to help himself.
Whichever route he decides to go down, at least now that I have recognised the error
of my ways, I will be able to live my life with a clear conscience.
The inscription on the bench reads 'Walking 10,000 steps a day can help you get fit, burn excess calories and improve your health.'
Lying bastard bench was all I was thinking having clambered up here only moments earlier, an incline that just seemed to go on and on and on! I felt absolutely
shattered after the walk today, which I put down to the hangover above anything
else. It was only a five miler but with some good climbs in places which has done
me no harm at all. I got home just in time for the Spurs game, which improved
my mood. That certainly wasn’t something I was expecting!
On the drive home from
our walk, I had another really sad moment. The realisation that I’ll never see
my boy again just overwhelmed me completely and I started crying my fucking
eyes out. And that made me think again about everything that had happened with
my Dad this last week.
I think I simply have
compassion fatigue. I know it’s far more common in people who operate in
extremely challenging environments as say paramedics do, but it does partly
explain my irrational behaviour. Sometimes I just feel that I’ve got nothing
left to give. But I’m going to fight it and show more kindness and love because
that’s me really. And you know what, when you are compassionate towards people,
it don’t half feel good.
Elisa definitely made it a superb night. Axel F has never sounded as good as her rendition on the melodica and Pass the Pigs was a resounding triumph.
ReplyDeleteHa-ha. Well she's barely put down the old melodica since then. Just hope the cello doesn't take too much of a hit!
ReplyDelete