Changes

As an adult, we become used to change. As a child it can sometimes be quite a big thing.

Charlie is not far off becoming a teenager and has been at the same rugby club, with the same mates since he was six. They had some good times over the years, but the numbers have dwindled, and at towards the end of last season a few matches were cancelled due to lack of numbers. We talked, and both agreed to see how the start of this season went. A few players left over the summer, a few didn't bother with pre season, but turned up for the first match. That's okay, people have different priorities. Josh likes rugby, but it comes a lowly third on his list of priorities behind gymnastics and athletics. Charlie loves the game, given the choice he'd play every day, as it is it's Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday. He needed to be at a club where week in, week out, rugby was guaranteed.

So, the decision was made, his club informed, and goodbyes made. He's joined a club with forty three registered players in his age group that put out two teams every week. He'd been to two training sessions prior to the first fixture, and I wasn't really expecting him to get a game, but they selected him to start at hooker for the seconds, and was presented with his match shirt, embroidered with his initials before the game.

As the current vernacular would put it, he smashed it (and that unfortunate lad in front of him) and will be given a chance in the first team squad next week. From walking onto a training pitch last week, knowing no one, to performing like this shows huge drive and commitment. I'm very proud of him. Most of the kids, and all of the coaches came and shook his hand and congratulated him after the game. It's got a nice feel to it, the right choice has been made.

A change for the good.

Getting old

With one exception, all of my Grandparents have lived to a ripe old age, and I've been close to all of them.

It's unusual given that I'm in my forties that I still have grandparents, although we lost my much loved Grandad a few months ago.

My remaining Grandmother has Alzheimers, and I try to visit her as often as I can, but sometimes it's not a pleasant experience. Last week she was fine, although very tired and forgetful, our conversation kept repeating itself. The week before was heartbreaking. She was very upset, and in constant distress. She still knows what is happening to her, she isn't in the full grip of the disease, although it's changing her very quickly. She had an almost pleading tone to her sobs as blurted out "I just want to die, I don't want this," over and over again.

She's terrified of going into a home. As yet, it's not going to happen. On that side of the family, it's just my Aunt and I, no one else, and caring for her is becoming ever more difficult for my Aunt. She herself is in her sixties, and still working part time.

There's a photo of my grandad on the mantle. She's left the frame there, but stuck a piece of card over his face as "He's upped and buggered off with another woman." He's been dead twenty five years.