I’m guessing that just about every one of my (older cohort) readers will know the stage and film versions of “The King and I” and the “Sound of Music” and will readily recall with pleasure some of the beautiful lyrics in almost all the songs that Julie Andrews and others made so famous. I’m not sure if it always works, but when I hear those songs my heart usually does a little pleasurable leap of delight as my mind connects the shared joy that Dorothy and I experienced in earlier times, maybe fifty or sixty years ago! What clever songwriters were Mr. R. Rogers and Mr. O. Hammerstein ll who, incidentally, were responsible for the music and lyrics in both shows and many others, too.

I don’t think it will infringe copyright for me to show you just a part of those lyrics so you can, perhaps, share the experience, the frisson, I get when I hear these songs. Like this:

Getting to know you, getting to know all about you.
Getting to like you, getting to hope you like me.
Getting to know you, putting it my way,
But nicely,
You are precisely,
My cup of tea.
Getting to know you,
Getting to feel free and easy
When I am with you,
Getting to know what to say
Haven’t you noticed
Suddenly I’m bright and breezy
Because of all the beautiful and new
Things I’m learning about you
Day by day.
Sharing your spirit,
Sharing your tears and your laughter
Hoping it goes on……

And, then there’s that other song from those prolific songwriters, this one from the “Sound of Music”, which also transports me to happier times….

When the dog bites, when the bee stings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don’t feel so bad…….

After visiting Dorothy yesterday, I am not sure whether my remembering those happy shared times and enjoying those songs has improved my current feelings – probably not!  As some of my readers know only too well, it really hits hard when your partner just doesn’t respond to your presence, and that’s how it was, yesterday. Theoretically we know, because of Alzheimer’s, our partner’s span of understanding is miniscule, and we know to expect the outcome of some of our encounters – but – it is so incredibly hard to accept that reality. I just couldn’t cope with that visit and left after twenty minutes or so. Then, after a little weep in the car before I settled down, had a quiet prayer, and drove quietly away. No matter how I rationalise, it remains as a constant sadness that wells up, sometimes when I am not expecting it, and can easily dominate most of my actions and thoughts; but it serves no purpose other than to feed on itself and, for that reason I continue to learn how to cope. Most days, I do that by my prayers and by walking and reading (newly rediscovered) and maintaining friendships and of course “getting on with it”, and not ‘moping’ or being a drudge when in company. Sometimes, it’s hard work, but I am determined to stay sane and to continue to visit Dorothy as often as currently possible in this coronavirus era!

Getting to know you also means “getting to know thyself” and not ‘living in the past! That’s easy, isn’t it?      And then I don’t feel so bad…….

Today I was allowed, by prior arrangement, to visit Dorothy for an hour. I have been told that provided I stay in her restricted area I may visit “every few days”, and I am happy to abide by the Care home’s new coronavirus ruling; I well understand the need to keep a tight rein on visiting and I appreciate that it is necessary for the wellbeing of Dorothy and for all the residents and staff. I have other friends at that same establishment, but not in the Alzheimer’s wing, and I am currently not permitted to visit them in their rooms and had to leave their shopping and a message at the front desk.

My times with Dorothy are often not therapeutic for either of us. Today, for quite a while, she definitely did not want to acknowledge my presence but finally took my hand and agreed to “look at me”. I tried to explain who I was, but all I could elicit was that “Bill was a lovely man” and “he always was”. So, even though I wasn’t necessarily Bill, that statement made my day! We then shared the exercise session, which means I sat with her and encouraged her to follow the instructor, not very successfully. She just isn’t able to follow instructions and, when coaxed into action, tends to continue it long after everyone else has moved to the next one, e.g., she is still half-heartedly ‘rowing’ while everyone else is ‘pedalling’! Mind you, in the group of eight or so participants, only one or two are able to properly follow the instructor’s motions; exercises like that really only work well when there are enough people actually following along to help provide an incentive to copy each other. Dorothy, however, is happy to walk at any time, holding hands, and we do that incessantly – I guess it is exercise for me, too!

Today I took in the bundle of Christmas cards we’d received and read aloud all the names and messages but, sad to say, none were understood, and she became distracted quickly; I persevered, but to no avail. There are times, though, when she does seem to enjoy it when I read to her, briefly. The same with TV; it rarely holds her attention, even at sing-along time. It is not easy to lead and encourage someone with Alzheimer’s to participate and respond. The effort required can be tiring and ultimately mentally exhausting and, dare I say it, demoralising – and depressing; and if I feel like that when I can walk away, how incredibly hard it must be for the staff and, more so for those of my readers who can’t walk away, those who are living with such a partner in a home situation!

I am so grateful for the care and patience Dorothy receives at Blue Cross. As she is aging, I am too, and admit to feeling more and more tired every day – it takes a great effort to remain ‘balanced’; everything I am involved with, even caring for myself, seems to get harder and more complex. I have almost forgotten how to repair a computer – now there’s an admission of my frailty! But I take everything as gently as I can, one day at a time, refusing to allow anything or any challenge, to dominate. Keeping as alert and fit as these old bones permit is the least I can do, so that I’m there for Dorothy even though she doesn’t recognise me as her past-life partner. It seems she mostly sees me as ‘just a visitor’, and doesn’t often talk with me coherently, but today she told me about Bill in a rambling way and ended with: “I love him”. Clear as a bell it was! That’s the best part of any visit, just to hear that. And I can only hear it if I’m there……

Two years have elapsed since Dorothy went into full-time care and it seems more like ten years. Maybe it has been that long, in truth, since it became obvious, to everyone except me, that she had been developing Alzheimer’s. We all, myself, neighbours, friends and family could cope at first; after all, everyone has memory lapses but, after a while, other things about Dorothy’s behaviour began to be different, subtle changes at first, such that I didn’t pick-up on them, but our children and others could.

Alzheimer’s has many forms and recognising it may not be a sudden realisation – certainly, I was slow to perceive Dorothy’s behaviour and reaction to circumstances; perhaps because is normal for a partner to make allowances for ‘forgetfulness’ now and then. After all, I find myself needing constant reminders, little notes, diary entries, I even resort to using special places to store certain objects. For example, when retiring at night, I run through a procedure that I have (a) my keys, (b) my phone, (c) my wallet, then (d) remember to plug in my phone and watch to charge, and ensure I have both my reading and normal spectacles. If that lot checks OK, then I can rest easy (or try).

Dorothy, in care and with nothing more than awareness of the moment, cannot and need not concern herself with such ‘critical’ matters! There are at least only two times during the day when something other than the moment is important: one when she awakes and then washed and dressed by the staff, and then at the end of her day when they ready her for bed. When I visit, sometimes for a whole day (pre/post coronavirus!) I see and frequently participate with her in a range of activities organised so well by Blue Cross at her residence. Of course, Dorothy is in an Alzheimer’s wing with a dozen or so others and life in there is a constant challenge for the devoted staff. I say devoted because in most cases, they are, and indeed need to be. Clearly, I could not give her the care and attention she now gets.

As the disease progresses, so does the inability to be continent, to feed oneself, indeed, to dress and undress and to attend to personal hygiene, full stop! Sometimes, as it was last evening, there was no way Dorothy wanted to undress and get kitted-up for bed – well, not by me, anyway, but the staff were somehow able to gently coax her and achieve that, and to settle her with the others into a lounge area with mood TV and music, all ready to peaceably retire between the sheets sometime later (I have yet to witness that manoeuvre!). Over the past two years I have seen how some of the other residents have become less ambulant and more (or less) ‘combative’, at times prone to aggravate each other in various ways, seldom combative but often a bit touchy, and I have great admiration for the staff who need to be vigilant and clever at distraction!

Many of the residents now need to be assisted at mealtimes and, on a couple of occasions during the year I have stayed on to have a meal with Dorothy. I notice she has some rather strange table manners (as do most of the others!), sometimes using fingers instead of a fork, or putting a potato into a cup of tea, or other actions too various or messy to explain here! And that means the staff need to help out, clean up, to coax, be vigilant and be present to ensure the meal is consumed with a degree of decorum! Often there is medication to be administered before, during or after a meal, too. That meal process happens three times daily and is added to with morning and afternoon teas as well. A nice weekly feature is the ‘special’ brewed coffee, finger-food and cake, afternoon-tea on a Friday.

Her days are also punctuated with a range of light physical group activities – simple, like catching and throwing a balloon – and a range of more physical low exertion exercises. Walking outside in their own outside garden area with its special soft-paved areas is good, but I am hoping that the minibus excursions will resume in 2021. In the meantime, coronavirus permitting, I continue to take Dorothy out for drives and to nearby parks for walks. It continues to amaze me how, comparatively easily, she can rise from a seat, indeed get in and out of the car, unaided. I always give her a walking stick, but in fact she’d cope easily without it! I am super-careful to not risk a fall – for both of us!

This was the first Christmas I can recall in 63 years when I was not with Dorothy. Instead, I had a few delightful days in northern Victoria with some of our extended family. Yes, here it is, the end of the year, we are, really, ‘nearly there, Dad!’.

I wonder how we will both cope next year, next week, next visit. But isn’t that what I say every night as I pray, check keys, phone, wallet, etc…….?

First thing when I wake up, I immediately ask myself what day it is! Only then can I start the thought process of what I need to do today. Often, I need to pad out to the kitchen where I keep my “written-down” diary to be sure of the commitments of the day. These days I also (almost) duplicate those activities on my newly upgraded Samsung smartphone, just in case I forget something or, worse, somebody. And I do – despite all my memory joggers!

Our minds are strange and wonderful places, they so readily absorb and retain images and events that we would often rather forget, or at least suppress. And conversely, I have some difficulty remembering times past, even when they were good times, and I admit to being confused, often, about what has happened, what is to happen, and what I’m doing, right now. “You’d forget your head if wasn’t screwed on” is an old saying which can certainly apply to me these days.

That means that writing down even simple chores is an absolute necessity for me. Perhaps in hindsight, I suspect I’ve always needed to do it and that’s why I instinctively – when I remember – enter things months ahead in my ‘week to an opening’ paper diary. But and this is fantastic, I’ve also entered birthdays and anniversaries into the database of a calendar printing software gem which prints a month to a sheet at the start of each year, which I then paste over each page of one of those free calendars we usually get from the local chemist, etc. Strangely, the software has been discontinued and at first, I couldn’t get it to run on Windows 10 but finally I tweaked it and now I’m all ready to print it for 2021, and it will automatically add a year to everyone’s birthday and anniversary! Sadly, there is one name to be deleted from the list, but never forgotten, a friend whom I’ve known since our teenage years and at whose wedding I danced! I remember with great affection the great times I spent with Ian and his family and with him during the years he courted his Joan who has now outlived him by many years and was able to see their beautiful children happily marry and mature into lovely people, and even see her great grandchildren. Vale Joan, a life well lived.

Yes, memories are precious, and I am often brought to tears as I learn to accept that my darling wife has none. That means my memories are tinged with unutterable sadness and sometimes I am so bereft of feelings that I can hardly be motivated for anything. To see the print-out of next year’s calendar might help me, again, to come to terms with the reality of our present lives and, as many of my readers well know, sorrow is a terrible master; I try to console myself with the thoughts that there are innumerable folk ‘out there’ who shoulder burdens far greater than mine. I have been spared from coronavirus directly, but all around the world people are suffering in isolation and with illness and strife. I have no cause to be other than immensely grateful for God’s mercy to me and on all my friends and our wonderful family. So, with those thoughts in mind I wish my readers the merriest of Christmases possible and a happy and healthy New Year. Let’s focus on that!

As we happily move forward from our lockdown era we will, all of us, emerge into a changed world, where everything is the same but different! For me, it means I can now visit Dorothy at any time, just as it was at the start of the year. Little else is different in my world, it is finishing almost as it started, and it seems like I have just been ‘treading water’ during that time. Potentially, those months were an opportunity for me to do some housekeeping and have a big ‘throw out’ of unwanted ‘stuff’ but, I admit, little was accomplished!

Dorothy, fortunately, was blissfully unaware of my inactivity at home during the lockdown but, as always, was happy to see me whenever I’m in her ‘moment’ – no matter about my absent times. That is a blessing for her – she appears to not miss me when I am not there – but I still miss her presence with me, every day. I am hoping that as the restrictions continue to ease, I will be able to take her out for a drive and walks in some nearby parks, as before. They are always joyful times and, even if we can’t converse in any meaningful way, it’s always a treat for us both to have a ‘quiet togetherness’.

It seems her Alzheimer’s is unchanged and, apart from some moments when she unexpectedly and briefly weeps, she is in good form at present, full of ready smiles and happy to take my hand. She is sometimes dozy when I arrive, and I guess that’s the tranquilising result of her minimal medication designed to help her to cope with long days and nights in that environment. Now with restrictions eased, I am sure the home will resume all the happy activities and outings they so capably arrange.

Yesterday was the first time for months that Dorothy’s Care home was able to provide much in the way of communal activities so the singalong ‘Concert in the sun’ with an excellent visiting vocalist entertainer was a real hit. We (me, too!) were all hatted-up and appropriately distanced as we sat in a courtyard beneath the trees and enjoyed the music, and a pleasant outdoor afternoon tea! The staff also encouraged us to sing, even dance, ensuring we all had an incredibly happy time as we emerged from our lengthy hibernation!

Queen Elizabeth described 1992 as “annus horribilis”, but surely 2020 is also seen in the same way by most of her subjects! Never mind, the finish of it is in sight now, as we prepare for a different Christmas and look forward, with hope and prayers, for a fresh and healthy start in the New Year.

You might have thought this piece was going to be all about the return to Earth after a flight to the Moon. Well, it’s not. It’s about our personal return to a ‘new normality’ after a journey, possibly even more hazardous, that has taken us the best part of a year!

As we now adapt in response to the easing of restrictions, we can expect a range of different, even conflicting, emotions and a new kind of anxiety, too.  This feeling of uncertainty has been called by some experts, re-entry anxiety, the normal response to a very unusual situation.

After the months of lockdown, restrictions, and physical distancing that we’ve lived through we now need to adapt to yet another different way of life. This ‘new normality’ will not be the same as it was earlier this year, or even last year! And we’ll still need to be vigilant and avoid close physical contact for a long while……

Re-entry means good news and bad news. It’sgood to resume travel and connection and have time with friends and family, but the bad news is that the aftermath of the coronavirus brings a new and different way of life for us all, including  older folk and especially those who live alone, and we are likely to experience a new raft of feelings related to ‘where we are at’ in our life’s journey.

This re-entry anxiety can be felt by all of us as we emerge from the period of seclusion; even though it did provide, for many of us, a sense of comfort, safety and a degree of control over our exposure risk.  Now, as we move into this ‘new normal’, we are still confronted with many uncertainties and unknowns. 

Despite the welcomed renewal of social connection and the resumption of some of our previous activities, we will be constantly reminded of the continuing coronavirus threat when we use our face-masks and face the daily news coverage in newspapers and TV. Our earlier, 2019, familiar life pattern is now drastically, and probably forever, different. Our sense of personal safety may well feel compromised and at risk of this pernicious influence for some time yet. 

Certainly, we may have mixed emotions when trying to adapt this, so-called new normality.  On the one hand, we may enjoy the longed-for social re-connection, the re-engagement with old hobbies and just ‘going out’. But we will probably still worry about whether sufficient safety precautions are in place, or whether others are taking appropriate precautions. 

To help manage any re-entry anxiety, it will be helpful to recognise that whatever feelings we are experiencing, they are probably normal and valid and can even be beneficial.  A degree of some anxiety can help maintain a level of vigilance; and some excitement and relief can help us reconnect and re-engage with others.  Our response may only be problematic if we experience too much negative response which stops us from moving forward, or too much positivity which can make us too complacent as we try to reach our old balance!

Maybe the following points will be helpful.

Ideas to help manage re-entry anxiety……

• Acknowledge and accept our different emotions.  We can feel many things at the same time!
• Be kind to yourself: just do the best you can in these new and changing times.
• Don’t compare yourself to others.  We all have different circumstances and coping styles.
• Take your time, pace yourself, there’s no hurry!  Take first, small, comfortable steps into the rest of your life….our ‘new world’.
• Go forward into any new situations with a trusted friend, a neighbour, or a family member if you can. Talk and discuss the changes that affect you with any kindred spirit you can find!
• Engage in activities that are meaningful. Renew your hobby, club, or pursuit.
• Check your thinking: Do you have a lot of “what about” thinking? Worrying about things beyond our control, like “what if we get a third wave?”.   
• Stop using a lot of absolute terms, like: “everybody”, “always”, “never”. Find the middle ground rather than the black or white thinking that something is either good or bad, like “this will never end”.
• Focus on the present moment with techniques like “mindfulness” activities.  Worrying about the future just increases anxiety.  Here and now is the moment that counts!
• If you are a “worrier”, acknowledge it, and schedule your worry time! Set aside a part of the day where you can reflect on, perhaps write down, your concerns.  Consider some possible scenarios and how you might cope with, or plan for, those that are within your control. 
• As well as a healthy diet, keep mobile (with a mask!), and as active as you can manage.
• Continue to focus on what is in your control: your thoughts, safe hygiene practices, staying connected, and set some objectives to do, to make, to read, to make contacts.
• Plan ahead for situations where you may feel uncomfortable and may need an exit strategy.
• Focus on the positive events around you. Set personal goals, identify two or three things a day you are grateful for. Stop and meditate or pray, with gratitude and hope.

If, despite all the above strategies, you can’t deal with any of them and you are still feeling overwhelmed and it’s affecting your day to day functioning, it will be time for you to reach out for some help. Speak with your doctor or a health care professional or a trusted friend; you could even send me a note, I’ve felt like that, too.

Acknowledgements: I am grateful to Tanja for her research and her summary of the work of many organisations, worldwide, who have written on this topic. The references are many, and I am happy to provide links to any interested reader. For information on Aged Care, I acknowledge the resources at https://mannacare.org.au/

Or should I say, ‘out walking’. That’s where I’ve been this afternoon and, strange to report, not many others! The trail alongside the eastern freeway, especially during the coronavirus era, has been like ‘Bourke Street’, but not today! I hardly saw a cyclist, a jogger or another walker – they must all be out driving in glorious weather in this, the first weekend for many Melbournians to freely go out; out from their coronavirus lockdown, now able to drive anywhere in the state and enjoy our great outdoors, after all those months of being cooped up.

That exodus is not shared, though, by most residents of most aged care homes and certainly not by those, like my wife Dorothy, who are still ensconced in a blanket of security for a while yet, to keep them safe from infection. Much as I dislike the caution, I accept its necessity but I am looking forward to my weekly controlled visit tomorrow, and I’m hoping I might also be permitted to visit three other people I know who live in the same residential facility but in the normal supported wing.

Using that word ‘wing’ reminds me that I have just finished, last night, reading Michelle Obama’s book, “Becoming”, which is all about her and her family’s life, leading up to and including the eight years of living in the residential wing of the USA presidential ‘White House’. What a great story, a real-life insight into living as the First Lady, a title appropriate to such an outstanding and remarkable woman. At every page I felt so grateful to have been born into an Australian family, however fractured and messed up were my early years. Like Michelle, but in my later formative years, I was able to find a sense of worth and, by the grace of God, found friendships, stability and love that enabled me to keep looking and planning ahead, to be prepared and ready to help my own family and others along the way. The two biggest takeaways from her book was, for me, to rediscover the incredibly costly, wasteful, privileged, system of representation that applies in the United States of America; of course it has evolved historically and, one day, may well be unscrambled but meanwhile it is messy and so monumentally expensive and different to our voting and representative system. And secondly, to recognise the dedication and integrity of both Barak and Michelle Obama as they broke new ground as people of colour. What a marked contrast to the current office-bearer! As a footnote, I am heartened to perceive the strong bond between the Obama’s and the newly elected president and his wife.

Back to the here and now, and whilst recognising the tragic consequences for so many Australian families, there will hopefully emerge many, and some unexpected, beneficial outcomes of these last horrible ten months (or more) of coronavirus. Things like the degree and extent of government and private support for the unemployed; the changes to lifestyles, occupations, education, health, housing, and relief agencies have all been unprecedented in such a short timeframe. Let’s hope that all those plans will proceed and not be thwarted by political wrangling and stalemates, and that our politicians will learn to value a cooperative and less polarised short-term attitude to these many worthwhile changes. Let’s hope they don’t walk away or walk out, on us, in the coming times…..

Sometimes, despite the seasonal ambiguity, or perhaps because of it, the nights are shorter but still too long. Or at least they seem that way when I experience multiple periods of wakefulness from time to time. I’m sure many of my readers will have experienced that broken sleep pattern at some stage, even when they still have their partner with them.

It is hard to get out of bed sometimes when you are in that cycle of, what I suppose could be, depression or anxiety or loneliness. But, like so many others locked-in at these times, I am determined to not let that sleeplessness distort my day-life and, to that end,  I make a positive effort to get up around 8am, and move – while I can. Goodness me, the time will come soon enough when I physically can’t get up and at ‘em!

I am permitted to visit my wife Dorothy only weekly at present, and I am always pleased to see the numerous activities that are planned for her and the dozen or so other residents in her care home. That can never match the interactions and activities we, together, could be involved with at home – but she is settled and happy ‘in the moment’ and those moments are pure gold for me. Over the months, she remains constant, always pleased to see me and to walk with me. But you should see her hair! I can hardly wait for the time when it’s her turn for a cut, it’s been a while since the resident salon has been operative, so that will be a treat, soon.

Dorothy is, by nature, placid and easy-going so it’s always a shock to get a phone call, infrequently but always it seems, just when I’m settling down for quiet evening of TV news and a show, to advise me that Dorothy has been involved in a ‘minor incident’ with another resident or two! My heart races as the caller hastens to add that “everyone is fine”, but the policy requires the home to advise me of an occurrence. When one considers the circumstances, it’s not surprising that the interplay of personalities is inevitably going to result in some emotional exchanges. The residents all have some form of dementia and a variety of medication and a huge array of backgrounds and relationships. It is miraculous that there aren’t more ‘barney’s’!

The staff level is probably not optimal, but it’s good in that wing, I know they are basically efficient, and I know most of them by name (or at least I try!). Because it has regular trained and caring staff, working in what could be a hot-bed of discontent, is what makes me so grateful that Dorothy is housed where she is. Most of her fellow-residents are also unable to vocalise their needs, or sometimes even their feelings, so people who criticise the style or competence of the staff at such facilities do need to stay a whole day over several visits to really get an understanding of the stresses and complexities that the staff need to manage and properly care for our ‘loved ones’ (don’t like that term, but it is appropriate!). Although these days I only stay for a couple of hours I have, in the past two years, been there for extended periods on multiple days and have a much deeper understanding of all those processes. It is not like being at home! It is different, and I am forever grateful for the dedication and skill of the people I have entrusted (and paid) to care for my beloved wife.

Meanwhile, here I am at home, alone, keeping busy, walking, fixing broken computers, watching the news, keeping in touch with family and friends, writing this blog, and doing a myriad of other things  except cooking (did I tell you I’m a dud at that?). I hardly have a moment to spare! Oh, I’ve resumed reading books, but the only time for that is in bed at night – and that’s what helps to dispel the insomnia and make my nights shorter, sometimes…..

Well, I suppose both she and me are in a sort of lockup/lockdown. And as much as we don’t like it, it does seem to be keeping most of us safe. I miss seeing Dorothy, and I am happy enough “in my own skin” so to speak. At least I can get out and go walking; but I do feel for those who are in lockdown, alone and not able, through sickness, disability, or infirmness to get ‘out and about’.

I am impressed at the rigidity of the visiting rules where Dorothy is living in care but, at the same time, dismayed by the same rules that forbid my otherwise regular visits. I know it’s for the best, and the strategy has been successful in keeping her care home free from the coronavirus. Even in ‘normal’ times there are staff dedicated to providing a vast range of activities and I am grateful for the innovative and clever diversions they constantly arrange to ensure a good degree of residents’ interaction, a task I would find difficult if she were at home these days!

When you have a partner living away from you there is always a nagging doubt about the level and nature of her care; the constant fear that her health may not be good or is compromised in an institutional environment, or that she may be fretting or unhappy at the separation. I have none of those concerns about Dorothy, her care is first rate, and it is me that is fretting! Even after nearly two years, I miss her being at my side. But I know she is ‘happy in the moment’; I know she doesn’t miss me, and that is actually hard for me to accept. If you, my reader, happen to be in that separated role, you will know how it can be so depressive and how it affects every aspect of your life. Perhaps, like me, you find it hard to sleep, are not motivated to be social (even if we could, outside of coronavirus), how everything is a chore – to be procrastinated whenever possible.

I am so grateful for these longer sunny days; this fine weather is at least an encouragement to get out and about because, as you probably well know, it’s even hard to get out of bed some days, or to plan ahead for the day. I’m not with Dorothy in the early morning to see how she starts her day, but most times when I visit, she is up and dressed with a ready, welcoming smile. It’s the absence of that sort of greeting that saddens me, and I can’t wait to be able to resume more frequent visits.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder it is said, and it’s true. However, I have discovered that when you are already at the most extreme fondest point, then the absence makes the heart grow sadder! This enforced time apart must also have a positive side – which I am forever striving to find – and that requires me to accept the need to re-discover and develop my interest in reading, in writing (like this!), in my electronics hobby and to also ensure some physical activities, like walking, to keep my old bones and muscles from atrophying! My lovely children keep in touch which is a great blessing and an encouragement for me to not drop the ball! My heart goes out to others like me but who don’t have that family connection. I’d love to hear from you and share your lockdown thoughts…..

No, Dorothy’s aged care home could never quite aspire to that description! But, given all the circumstances, it’s about as good as it gets, currently! I recently had a discussion with a friend who seemed to lump together all nursing homes, aged care homes or whatever else they are called, “They are all rogues and are run to maximise profits”, was the gist of his take on the industry. I tried, tragically without much success, to explain that wasn’t universally the case although there may well be some ‘cowboys’ exploiting the system. (Hasn’t that always been the case, e.g. Insulation Batts in the ceiling, Solar panels – or wherever there is a government payment to be rorted!).

My personal experience of having my wife in residential care only exposes me (and her!) to just one operator, but that private company has more than 23 homes and has operated in Victoria for over 26 years. They seem to have stayed the course and with the diversity of all those sites they must have got their act together successfully. I don’t have first-hand knowledge of any other sites or their past records, but it is hard for me to find fault with the care my dear wife is receiving. Nothing is perfect and I could relate only a very few unsatisfactory occurrences but perhaps my memory is less than perfect, and emotion can cloud the issues when a loved one is concerned.

When I’ve ever had an issue with Dorothy’s care, I have always been able to talk to management and get an acceptable response. Good care costs, and the age pension doesn’t quite cover Dorothy’s monthly care nor any medications outside the PBS, and that requires me to be super-careful how I manage our affairs. I can live comfortably in my retirement village because I am lucky to have a small annuity (planned in earlier life!) to supplement my age pension and keep ahead, enough to build up a small reserve against Dorothy needing unexpected medical or other costs or, for that matter, me requiring some!

I do recognise that not all aged care facilities are the same, and I must have been lucky, or careful. The old adage: ‘You get what you pay for’ and another that says, ‘Look before you leap’,  are a couple of wise old sayings to keep in mind when evaluating potential care homes. I well remember, comparatively recently, visiting elderly friends in care homes which smelled of urine, were dark and dingy, had inadequate staff levels, and awful meals. I find it hard to believe that there are still some like that but, it seems, there are!

In more recent times, most of our Aussie public services, from local councils to public transport, communications and dozens of other institutions have, in general terms, undergone massive changes in the range and delivery of services. And residential care facilities have mushroomed to cope with the growing cohort of elders. As always, those services are mostly driven by the profit motive but mitigated by demand and by feedback from concerned users, welfare organisations, even some politicians, pushing for improvements; and I am grateful for those past and continuing efforts! Maybe aged care facilities are still not all, or always, a ‘home away from home’, but home is where the heart is, and I am at ease about where my love is living now!

Are any of my readers unhappy at the state of their partner’s care homes? Let me know….