Busyness is a state of mind over matter. Keeping going, converting thoughts into actions, killing time. To hell with the fact that it is actually work and I'm building up stock needed for Christmas. This non-stop work fever covers a full-on panic struck, don't-stop-or-you'll-think-about-it, frightened old little girl, me.
Until a few months ago, well until spring of this year really, my Mum could watch TV till 10pm, make her own meals, go shopping, meet friends for coffee, phone me up and chat happily about everything and nothing.
Now her life is ruled by carers, a catheter, and too much time to worry about her failing health . Her sunny disposition has gone. In it's place is a frightened rabbit who stares blankly into the headlights of life and is at a loss as to what to do.
The care home awaits. She spent a 'sleepover' there on Saturday, and next weekend goes in for 2 weeks respite care. For her sake and especially for my brother Colin's sake. The gaunt face of stress cannot be hidden. The tiredness and strain of months of sleeplessness and the crushing defeat of the endless loving care that sees no light. This cannot be hidden and the lines are etched deep on his face, he looks ill and done in.
Mum needs a break. Colin will get a break from this dreadful situation on Saturday. Mum never will, this is her life now, what there is of it.
A joyful colourful flower can fade in no time at all.
Enjoy those flowers while you can.