Don McCarron
03-06-2003, 05:21 AM
Having been saddened at reading about Isabel's recent loss I thought I'd share a little story with you all.
When my stepfather died my Mum was, understandably, heartbroken. We knew it would be a slow process but over time she only seemed to deteriorate. The sounds I'd grown up with, her laughter, her singing around the house, were all gone to be replaced with an omenous depressing silence.
To make matters worse her old dog, Lassie, died. It was the most worrying time of my life. We tried to get her to agree to have another dog but she said she couldn't face it. Her argument was that she was only just managing to look after herself and, anyway, how could any dog replace Lassie? I had to watch the person I loved most in the world slowly sinking.
Taking matters into her own hands one day my sister turned up with a six week old GSD X Rough Collie puppy, put her on the kitchen floor and immediately left.
I moved back in with my Mum for a while to keep an eye on her and help with the puppy and promptly took on the walking and training duties but it was made clear from the start that Mum had to take care of Emma (as she was named) that being our cunning plan to bring her back from the abyss.
Emma was adorable, very sensitive, very eager to please and always ready for a game. She became the focus of my Mum's attention and gave us hope that we could halt her decline.
One day a couple of weeks later I was doing some paperwork in the sitting room when there came, from the kitchen, the most wonderful sound. It was a sound I'd always loved, almost like music. My Mum was laughing.
It wasn't just any old laughing, it was that lovely breathless, helpless laughter you couldn't help but join in with. I ran through to see Emma reversing round the kitchen floor with a Cornflake box stuck on her head. Needless to say we helped her out of the predicament her inquisitiveness had landed her in and she continued to leap around in her own comically enthusiastic way making my Mum laugh all the more.
The spell was broken and from that day my Mum improved quickly aided by the knowledge that this lovely little innocent bundle needed her.
A few days later she sat me down at the kitchen table, held my hand , looked into my eyes and said, "I've been to a very dark place but I'm back now love," then looked down at Emma's adorable little face and said, "Aren't I darling?"
When my stepfather died my Mum was, understandably, heartbroken. We knew it would be a slow process but over time she only seemed to deteriorate. The sounds I'd grown up with, her laughter, her singing around the house, were all gone to be replaced with an omenous depressing silence.
To make matters worse her old dog, Lassie, died. It was the most worrying time of my life. We tried to get her to agree to have another dog but she said she couldn't face it. Her argument was that she was only just managing to look after herself and, anyway, how could any dog replace Lassie? I had to watch the person I loved most in the world slowly sinking.
Taking matters into her own hands one day my sister turned up with a six week old GSD X Rough Collie puppy, put her on the kitchen floor and immediately left.
I moved back in with my Mum for a while to keep an eye on her and help with the puppy and promptly took on the walking and training duties but it was made clear from the start that Mum had to take care of Emma (as she was named) that being our cunning plan to bring her back from the abyss.
Emma was adorable, very sensitive, very eager to please and always ready for a game. She became the focus of my Mum's attention and gave us hope that we could halt her decline.
One day a couple of weeks later I was doing some paperwork in the sitting room when there came, from the kitchen, the most wonderful sound. It was a sound I'd always loved, almost like music. My Mum was laughing.
It wasn't just any old laughing, it was that lovely breathless, helpless laughter you couldn't help but join in with. I ran through to see Emma reversing round the kitchen floor with a Cornflake box stuck on her head. Needless to say we helped her out of the predicament her inquisitiveness had landed her in and she continued to leap around in her own comically enthusiastic way making my Mum laugh all the more.
The spell was broken and from that day my Mum improved quickly aided by the knowledge that this lovely little innocent bundle needed her.
A few days later she sat me down at the kitchen table, held my hand , looked into my eyes and said, "I've been to a very dark place but I'm back now love," then looked down at Emma's adorable little face and said, "Aren't I darling?"