Autumn is upon us and change is in the atmosphere. The leaves are already falling and dancing to the tune of the autumn winds, and there is a freshness in the air that has prompted the migrating birds to fly to a country where the sun is still warm and friendly. The autumn colours are lovely, but there is a sombre feel to this season – a warning that the time of regrowth and reproduction is now at an end and it is now a time for reflection and survival through the coming winter months.
Change is not welcome if you suffer from dementia. If things could only jog along without any change, month after month, it would be better – easier. The smallest of changes are confusing, upsetting even. Different clothes, warmer bedding, the need for a heater or electric-blanket all become major disruptions in life. There must be a long debate to decide if these changes are really necessary, and when they are implicated it takes time to become accustomed to them. My job is to make the transition as seamless as possible for Mum and, with her indomitable spirit, she takes on what has become a challenge for her unflinchingly, there have been many unwanted changes in her life of almost ninety years and this is just one more!
Toto doesn’t like the heat at all, so she loves autumn. The freshness in the air seems to rejuvenate her and on her walks she greets all her admirers, both human and animal, with a new enthusiasm. Her arthritic joints are forgotten as she prances around younger dogs, welcoming a few seconds of play before we move on. When we get to places where there is a covering of soft green grass she must have a roll. For her it is especially nice if the grass is dew soaked or frosty or covered by light snow. I don’t know why this should be – it must be a ‘dog thing’. Best of all for her, dare I say it, is when she finds something absolutely disgusting to roll in – the smellier the better! This results in her having to have a shower when we return home. She has to sit on Mum’s shower chair and have the ‘delicious’ aroma scrubbed off her body and washed down the drain. You can see in her reproachful eyes that she thinks this is a waste, but she realises that it must be a ‘human thing’ – and she rather enjoys the shower!
Autumn isn’t a bad month if you’re a writer. There are less distractions in the garden. The grass and hedges grows slower so don’t need cutting so frequently. The flowers that have been so beautiful all summer have reached their full potential and there is nothing more you can do for them until winter sets in, and then everything has to be cut back and made ready for the bleak months.
That means there is more time to write, to immerse yourself in your characters’ lives, get to know them better, live with them through their trials and successes. When you are with them your own life falls away, you are in another place, another situation, you feel what they are going through.
The biggest distraction lately has been the thunderstorms we’ve been experiencing. Mum doesn’t like them very much and Toto is terrified by the noise and tries to hide in ridiculous places where she can’t possibly fit – like under the bookshelf! But I love the drama and excitement of a big thunderstorm, with brilliant flashes of jagged lightning punctuated by huge crashes of thunder and bombarding rain. It thrills me to think of a bigger power demonstrating his authority over this puny and sinful world.
I especially like thunderstorms if they come during the night because they are even more dramatic. I feel the power of them vibrating up through the soles of my feet, and the electrical discharges of the lightning seem to connect with the electricity in my own body and energise me in a strange way that I cannot explain. I only know that during the day after the storm I have a clearer head, ideas come to me more readily – and for that day I am a better writer!
Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice, to the rumbling that comes from his mouth. He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven and sends it to the ends of the earth. After that comes the sound of his roar; he thunders with his majestic voice.
Job 37: 2-4
