This is what it sounds like, when doves cry....

It's been a long time, welcome back. People assumed that because I hadn't written for so long, things must be better. Not true. Every single aspect of my life has deteriorated massively, with the exception of my friends. They remain, as ever, a constant source of love and support. I have struggled with what to write about, so here is my latest offering.

My Nana has suffered from Alzheimer's for many years now. It was actually me who first spotted it and I was relentless in my insistence that something was wrong.  My grandmother was a beautiful, supportive, loving, creative, welcoming and spirited woman. She had a hard start in life but she never let it break her. Every school holiday my sister and I would stay with her and Grandad and it was Nana who took us for adventures, always thinking of cheap and cheerful ways to make our time together special. This woman made trips to the library the single most exciting highlight of the week with her enthusiasm.

My Nana was social, dragging Grandad to an endless round of clubs, dinners, dances and lectures. He hated it but went because of her ability to see everything seems like it was amazing. She collected Owl's she had dozens of the things in all shapes and sizes and my sister has carried this tradition forward. She made a patchwork quilt, something I cherish so much I keep it in a plastic box , scared it may dissolve or break.

One thing my Nana was also good at was making people feel good. It was like a sixth sense, if you felt chubby she would mention how slim you look, if you were having a bad hair day she would tell you how fabulous your hair looked. I miss that.

Today I spent time with Nana in A&E. She was terrified, screaming for help. I was a stranger in her eyes, one she deemed "ugly, lazy, useless.....I wish you were dead!" Now, I know she didn't mean it. When she calmed down after five hours of abuse she told me I was "kind and good" so why can I only remember the harshness of her words? The moment I felt like she could read my mind and turn my innermost thoughts about myself into real, tangible words? I hope my Nana isn't scared tonight, in a world familiar but unfamiliar all at once. I hope she isn't in pain. I hope when I see her next she babbles happily and blows me kisses.

I hope I can forget what she said. Above all, I hope I can remember that maybe.... she didn't mean it.