modranicht

    Well, here’s a post I didn’t want to make so soon, a post about my life as a carer. To begin at the beginning: in this little house my grandmother played a great part in raising the little me, and in this little house I am happily bound to take care of her until she no longer needs me. My nana is a thoroughly capable and independent woman who lives with effects of multiple strokes and Alzheimer’s.
    While washing the pots this morning, my grandmother lost her balance and fell, fracturing her pelvis. My husband, mother and I spent the rest of the day in a city hospital an hour away, doing our best to help her while we waited for X-rays, painkillers, cups of tea and eventually a bed. How you wish you could have done something to prevent this, when you explain for the fifth time in ten minutes, that ‘it hurts because you fell, we don’t have any medicine to give you, you can’t move because it’s broken, you will walk again soon’.
    I consider Modranicht to be a longer period of time than a single night, and I am praying to the mothers of my mothers that we can get my dear grandmother through this and keep her content for many more years with us.
    This New Year’s Eve, marked by a New Moon, compels many interpretations. It is also the seventh anniversary of my relationship with the man who became my husband, who has cried today for guilt and frustration. Me and my mother cried together, in each other’s arms which is a rare thing, and my grandmother cried most of all. I’m in an empty house tonight, preparing to rearrange the furniture so my grandma can come home swiftly and convalesce in the home she asked me to keep her in.
    To anyone who is in hospital tonight, as patient or carer, to anyone who is injured or ill, may all the power of all your mothers keep you safe with us into the New Year. Be whole for the sunrise, all of you.