Missed a few, regretted it immediately and can’t wait to get back in the saddle, and thanks to Rochelle and the wonderful bunch of folk here I can. My Dad had a bad stroke a few weeks ago and so I’ve been trying to sort the shit show out, with my Mum, my Hospitalised Dad and my family, not forgetting my job. So I’ll try to write something, but have no idea how it’ll turn out… Thats part of the fun I guess, just letting the words flow, or not.. Lets see,
Thanks to Douglas M Macllroy for the photo, reminds me of something spacey, lets see what gives.
On My Marks…
Get Set…
GO!!!
Michael, stationary in a chair, right arm pulled across his belly by left, his right leg in red gripper socks hanging listless off the wheelchair’s footrest.
Stationary, looking out over the carpark, seeing cars come and go, unregistering, dreaming of home and familiarity.
Sewage pours into our waterways, spiralling into nebulae of excrement effluent; politicians look over their shoulders for a while
Michael stares into the night sky, real Nebula, through tears.
World leaders fly thousands of miles to Glasgow to discuss the climate cataclysm.
Michael watches a plane disappear leaving only a vapour trail.
How he wants to go home .
There we are 100 words on the isolation and loneliness of a hospital patient in the times of covid, specifically my Dad.
The Count Of North Clifton 
The image of looking out over the carpark at others coming and going is really poignant. I hope your Dad recovers well
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So do I but i’m under no illusions, he’s 88 and a frail chap, he’s got his mind, but the right side had gone, Mum cant cope at home so it;; be a care home I guess. Ive tried to get them here but its not happening. Old Age sucks
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There’s quite a lot of unhappy Armageddonish imagery in here. I’ll pray your Dad recuperates well
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The government have authorised water companies to dump raw sewage into our rivers and coastal seas, and all the time Dad is oblivious to any of this, unable to read, unwilling to watch the telly he’s in an airless airlock, looking at the car park. The outside world is collapsing around us, snd his is collapsing in a hospital ward. It’s sad beyond measure
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That’s very hard. I hope writing helps as a way to process things.
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It does help actually, I find it hard to vocalise how I feel sometimes, writing can be so much more on occasion
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Poignant and topical.
So sorry to hear about your dad, I hope he recovers.
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Cheers, we’re now living the nightmare seen on telly with the care homes early on in the pandemic. Grim
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I can’t imagine what you are going through but writing can be therapeutic if only for a very short while.
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Its helping me, thanks for kind words its appreciated
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So sorry things are bad for you. Hope things improve soon.
You made a great story though.
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Thanks, I don’t mean to bring everyone down but it’s pretty cathartic this writing business!
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Isn’t it! Get into writing a good story with your favourite characters and everything feels just fine.
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Right??? My sentiments exactly… it is so much easier for me to write when I am sad than happy. Wonder why?
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A touching tale revealing a look as you walk a mile in his shoes. Hope for a recovery soon.
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I’m uncertain that I’ll see 88. I’ve asked others, “how old is old enough?” No good answers. As far as old age goes, it can be bad for certain, especially near the end times. I hope you and your family find better days to come. Good, thoughtful story.
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Thank you so much, it’s a waiting game from now on,
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It’s a rough time, indeed.
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I’m so sorry for your entire family. Watching our elders age and head toward death is very hard. I AM an “elder” now, and I get it. From both sides of the situation. I will pray for you as you sort through so many details. It’s a huge job.
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Hey you, thanks so much, I understand the route I’m on, and how it ultimately ends. My aim is to have as much good time as possible but that can be scuppered if folk aren’t willing to compromise
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Are you the main man in the situation? I hope you’ll have cooperation from others in the family.
And maybe I’m being way to personal. Forgive me if I am. It’s the counselor in me, I guess. You don’t have to tell me anything 🙂
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Michael is my Dad, I’m the only child, it’s hard at the moment, but I’m a glass half full chap, so I’ll cope. Ive got to
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I see your’s took a sad turn as well… wonder why so many of us went with that theme? I don’t feel sad all the time but melancholy is afoot. Maybe its the book I am reading? Jane Eyer..
Well done!
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My dad had a stroke, and it’s prevented me writing anything of any substance for a week or two, this weeks prompt sung to me!
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I’m sorry you and your family are having such a rough time with your dad’s illness. You’ve written a passionate, powerful and moving lament. I love the care with which you describe the detail e.g. not just socks, not just red socks but ‘red gripper socks’. And I love the way you use Michael’s physical deterioration as a metaphor for the deterioration you see in politics.
Well done!
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Wow thank you! Life is all connected this and that. The fact we have an awful government makes things worse
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My thoughts are with you and your family. Bless you all
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Thank you, very kind
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Shrawl, it is a sad situation for so many at the end of their life cycle being isolated because of the covid plague.
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Ain’t it just? Sucks massively
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Dear Shrawley,
I’m so sorry to hear about your dad. Your story puts me in mind of our dear FF friend Ted who’s working his heinie off in rehab. Writing is a great way to deal with the emotions. This one drew me in. Well done. Sending across the sea hugs to you and your family.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Very strong stuff…..merging of events with the life of one man going through a very difficult time…powerful…best thoughts for you.
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Thanks, I’ll be continuing this evening
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