Thursday, 9 October 2014

The Carer

I did this yesterday,  I love boats and water,  anything relating to the sea in fact.  This was an exercise, but the way I see it, I have to put the paint on the paper and turn it into a painting.   I will revisit this,  I rushed some parts, which I regret, but I did use a looser style of painting and enjoyed it.    I've just ordered another watercolour how to book,  more seascapes but in a different style.   I've just sketched out the next painting,   and I've noticed I have more confidence - my straight lines are straight! 

I think really I should change the title of this blog, or start a new one.   I'm not crafting anymore, maybe I will again one day.   I rearranged the craft desk, so now it is my art desk.   It has my desk easel,  so nice to have it,   it has made a difference.   My paints are now to hand, as are my brushes.  The beauty of watecolour is that you just need water,  and when it comes to the clean up, well it is easy peasy, no need to worry about paint clogging up the pipes, or having to clean the brushes right away.   

Today I hoped to get an early start on the painting, sketched it out,  then put the first wash on,  left that to dry while I had a well earned cuppa, then blow me Harvey comes in and demands some fussing!   So we had head butts,  lots of purring (from him),  tummy rubs (me rubbing his tum),  tickles under the chin (his chin),  before he finally decided he needed his afternoon nap!  At which point I could return to my painting.   I was engrossed in it, then suddenly came this unearthly howl, it was Harvey, to remind me that he needed his dinner!   I looked at the clock and realised he was quite right, it was time for dinner. 

I'm also missing my mum,  really badly at times.  I know that Harvey would cause her to smile, and also curse!   There is no sense to grief,  a web page I visited recently split it into three phases - as if!   Grief does its own thing,   there are no set phases,  nor does is follow a time frame.  This web site, it shall remain nameless, was for carers, it was largely rubbish.  I think that whoever is responsible for it had a straightforward experience, well not all of us do.   Carer's suffer more I think,  they grieve twice over,  firstly for the mother/father/loved one, they are losing but are still alive,  they have to deal with their own guilt,  plus depression.  Then when that loved one dies, the grief starts over,  there is the aching sense of loss,  the space that cannot be filled,  and the guilt: could I have done more, should I have done more?    The anger, not at those that died, but those that could have helped and didn't, who stayed away for often petty, or selfish reasons.   I am angry at my family,  they were not there for me or their mother,  they stayed away, when they did appear it was to insist that they knew better, that they had the answers - if only they had bothered to listen, and made the effort to 'hear'.  There are thousands of carers out there right now, feeling resentful,  feeling angry,  put upon and yet doing their best while feeling deserted by the family.   If you are related to a carer, if it is your sister, brother, whoever, is now looking after 'your' loved one, then go help them, stop sitting on the sidelines and hoping the problem will disappear. 

Yep it got heavy, do I care, not anymore.   Thanks for stopping by.

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