The Pictures Unposted

When I first started blogging my strap line was Landlubber Afloat. That was in the DT days. But it underlines how I thought being on das Boot was going to be a main reason for writing. And even now, when I am afloat, my urge to record the days is far greater than when I am home. Blogging became about other things, but Mother, Cat and das Boot were by far and away the most important parts of my online journal.

Now Aunt is looking at her life to come in terms of months, and taking her to the places she wants to go, helping her to see the flowers and landscapes she wants to see has brought a new focus to my visits East and to my posts.

In time to come these pictures, these words will remind me of the strange path we tread now. I say that with some confidence, as when I reread the posts about Mother they take me back to feelings, good and bad, I now often find difficult to recall. Some people say that photographs disrupt the process of memory. I can see that that is possible, but photographs also capture a moment and can bring back a time and its attendant emotions with startling clarity.

Slow evenings like tonight (though I have little hope that there is even the slightest chance of uploading this post until I am back at home) watching the sun go down on the river, listening to the birdsong, watching MasterB, take me back to Mother dying and after.

They don't make me particularly sad, though understandably there are moments. Rather, I feel a closeness to her that is precious. Maybe driving around an East Anglia in its spring clothes will in the future bring Aunt back too.

Our memories work in strange ways.

So you may enjoy these photos, and I hope you shall, but they will doubtless have an entirely different resonance for me.

 

 

 

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8 thoughts on “The Pictures Unposted

  1. I like the look of Aunt. I like her laugh, her choice of colours and teapot which is a good pourer must be admired in this day and age. She is fortunate indeed to have you Isobel to show her the things which give her pleasure now that time is getting on. I did the same with my mum. On one weekend visit home from hospital, I drove the long way around and we sat in a lay-by watching a jaw-droppingly spectacular sunset. Neither of us said anything, but I knew it would probably be her last.

    • I am sure she would enjoy a visit from you Jan if you are in East Anglia at all.
      It’s weird how you know these are special and significant days, but your conversation is still about the everyday mundane things, not like the movies. We have talked about her moving her prepaid funeral plan to the undertakers who did Mother’s funeral as aunt thought they were so friendly and nice. But even that was on the same sort of level as what sort of soup she’d like me to make. Still, ur lives are made up of mundanity with occasional jaw dropping moments like the sunset you shared with your mother. I have a feeling that sudden sweeping views of fields of yellow rape will take me back to this time.

  2. A sweet picture of your Aunt. I am pretty sure I would like to be in her company.. 🙂 She reminds me a bit of my Mom… pants, hair, and glasses. I admire her strength. She is quite a woman. I am so happy you two have this time together. I have so many thoughts going through my head with this post that I am overwhelmed… it is a post that touches the heart.

    • I think it was lucky that last year we started our pub visits. That meant we had tried something and found Aunt liked it, so now she is losing ground it isn’t a new venture, but a continuation of something she knows she enjoys. It gets her out and about, seeing changing scenery. She is spending almost all her time in her flat these days, not even getting to church, though they have services at the scheme on Sundays in the communal room that she goes to.

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