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  • Sat in my Grandmother’s house. Next to a clacking carriage clock i’ll take pleasure in bubble wrapping. She is sleeping upstairs. Oblivious to her dilapidated home. It’s condition filtered by her dementia.

    I’ve had an unshakable dread these last few days. Leading up to this night and the mission I have to carry out in the morning.
    The inevitable act of putting my Grandmother in a home weighs so heavy I fear my soul might splinter. If I thought I had one. It feels like a cold, hard, un-calculated act, and yet it's the opposite on all counts.

    With carers uncaring, a boiler condemned, the chimney crumbling and cracks in the walls.. I can't of think many places she'd be worse off.

    The care home cares. 24/7. It has great reviews, the room put aside looks out over countryside and one carer speaks my Nonna’s native tongue, Italian. What's not to love?

    All we have to do is sell the house she has lived in for over 40 years and hand over the cash.

    And then there is the letting go. The leaving the home I was pretty much brought up in. The house were my Nonna and Granddad, Mum and Dad, my Brother and I used to live.

    The letting go of my Mothers council house happened in a time of numbness. The emotional aftermath of her death clouded any memories of that event.

    This is different. That was our 10th home. My Gran’s house is the only one I remember. This has been for ever.

    I used to be able to let go of things so much easier. I feel selfish finding this so hard. She had to let go of her daughter, her husband and four younger siblings. This is her last slither of whatever 'security' a home alludes to give. And the doctors say with her Alzheimer's she soon may not be able to create memories of a new home. These four walls help to contain what's left of her dwindling sanity. Anchored by whatever memories remain trapped here. Yet to let go, to drift off where her happiness goes.

    The smiles do return. When she watches my children play, when we share a dark joke.

    I hope when she moves, those ghosts of happiness can still find her.
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