Letter 29

After over six months of concertedly writing and sending a letter every week, it seems to me that letter-writing is almost an automatic part of my life. And I think that's a nice thing.

One of the newest developments with my family life is that my Grandpa has just moved into a residential home permanently. With all occassions like this it is positive and negative in turns. He has demetia and neither me or my Mum live nearby so he needs to be somewhere where he will be safe. It is a big change to make and you can't help but feel you're not doing enough, even if you know that you are. But discussion of care for the elderly and how families cope with demetia is not for here. If you want to watch a really good documentary about it, look to the latest Louis Theroux.

What I have been trying to do is write to my Grandpa each week, simply saying what I've been doing, asking how he is and trying to keep him up-to-date. As the weeks roll by, I think that maybe I'm doing this for me, rather than for him. Is it because I feel less guilty if I write that I've not got enough spare cash to drive down and visit as often as I'd like. Probably. But I do know that he likes to show people letters and cards that he receives, and he gets pleasure from that interaction. And that's the main thing.

I guess my point this week is that it is not neccessarily the reading of the letter that is important, but the communication in other ways it then inspires.