Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

When my Dad was 73 ( my age now) and my Mum was 71 they were continuing to be the rock they had been all my life!

Our youngest child and Mum and Dad’s 6th grandchild was born that year. I was 35.

Hospitalised with glucose intolerance bordering on gestational diabetes and being classified as a ” geriatric mother” by a specialist , after one consultation, I was hospitalised for 9 weeks.

Every day my Dad came to see me. Everyday my mother cared for our other three children. Their father supported by Mum and Dad had his evening meal with them at the end of each day.

My Dad and that baby were connected from birth. As Dad moved into the agony ( for us) of alzheimers my son became my Dad’s best friend, life long buddy – his “Joe Blow”!

Dad died in 1999. Mum in 2012.

My life is very different to all of that! But its richness, in memory and continuing love endures!

All my children and their children know these stories.

To me, that’s eternity!