Last Monday I woke not wanting ‘to do’….my calendar was empty and I would normally just take a trundle into town in the morning for something to do….but this quiet slow period has left me in the hands of dementia and not ‘doing’ that morning seemed a wonderful option. Someone suggested yesterday it was just the January blues…..it really isn’t. I know how debilitating depression is and the need to get help, not that help is easily found 🙄 I know the feeling of the black cloud hanging over you and how hard it is to lift yourself into life again and not something I would wish on anyone…it creates a different need to the one I’m feeling…
But this is a sense of getting slower….and slower ….and slower…not in the body but in the brain, as dementia takes up more space due to lack of a specific kind of stimulation I need….the glue becoming thicker creating less incentive ‘to do’…..
I didn’t even follow my own routine of going downstairs, after my shower, to watch Breakfast TV 😳….instead, I took my flask upstairs, snuggled after my shower and watched it on my iPad….really not like me….
I knew this was wrong and bad for me even though the weather outside was cold, windy and grey.. I knew I had to force myself to put up a fight…..
The first village bus now leaves at 09.50 from the bottom of my road. Since the timetables changed it’s affected many villagers lives. They only run every 90 minutes now, so we have a longer wait to return. It’s messed up Gp and hospital appointments for many and catching connecting buses. For some villagers it’s their lifeline to the outside world. I’ve called it “The NHS on Wheels’ in previous blogs. For some, it’s the only time they see people, it’s the only time they have conversation, it’s the only time they share laughter and sadness. So it really is more than a means to get from A to B.
Anyway, back to last Monday. I knew I needed to force myself out ‘to do’..I didn’t need anything from town, which made it harder, especially the thought of 90 minutes just wandering aimlessly around until the bus back, but then I saw a piccie on Facebook.
It featured Beverley Beck, a walk the other end of town, I’d done many years ago, up along the old Beck and back down the other side. So that stirred my glued up brain into action.
I’m so glad I did, not for the trundle to the other side of town, but for the conversation that took place on the bus….
Before the bus had even arrived I shared a chuckle at the bus stop with someone. When the bus came we climbed on board and at the end stop in the village other usual travellers boarded too. All with cheery hellos and happy chatter.
It was then one started talking about childhood toys which they still had. Back to a time when Kapok, the material now used to stuff toys, didn’t exist. Instead they chatted about grandmas making stuffed handmade toys with old stockings, and others spoke of the sawdust and straw inside theirs. They all spoke of how they keep them in a prominent position, much to the displeasure of family, who see them as tatty old relics that need binning. Their faces lit up at the memories of receiving them, of how they’ve always been there for a cuddle when no one else was, how they believe, when they’re dead and buried, how family will immediately discard them. But for now, they’re going nowhere.
They’re faces, so animated, staring with a sparkle in their eyes and reliving the past in that short trundle made their day. It made mine too as I shared mine with them..there’s not much I like to remember from the past, but if someone moved Ted from my chest of drawers, it would be like taking away that chink of happiness….
I did go for my trundle down to the Beck. It was like stepping through time and ghosts of a busy port of Beverley some 800 years ago kept me company.
An information board detailed the story of the once thriving medieval port of Beverley. The only barge barge now left being the ‘Syton’, looked after by the Beverley Barge Preservation Society…….
……..along with it’s own history.
Once serving the town Tannery which disappeared in the 70’s, this once busy strip of water became deserted. Enthusiasts restored this former working barge and it now rests peacefully alone on the Beck with only a passing duck for company…
it passed the time perfectly, and even though the weather was anything but inviting, it was a nice trundle……
P.s…….The driver we had on Monday retired last year, but missed the conversation and the driving of his village bus so much that he came out of retirement and is now back driving our village bus. So public transport is a necessity for all manner of reasons…….