Time, tales + traditions
Travel diaries part II
Hey friends,
Thank you for all your kind words last week. They meant the world to me.
I had an amazing time in Bratislava, Poprad, and Vienna. I didn't make it out to the Tatra Mountains or any of the epic-looking castles around Poprad, but it was fun catching up with friends and the wedding was incredible.
The highlight was a Slovakian folk dance which ended with all of the guests in a circle holding hands and dancing around the couple, a person with a basket, and a person with a bottle and shot glasses.
One by one, guests would come in, put some money in the basket, take a shot, and then dance with either the bride or groom. The next person would then pay their money, take their shot, and take over the dance and the original one would rejoin the circle. It was great.
So too were all the castles that we saw on the train ride. Some were nothing but ruins clinging to rockfaces and perched on hilltops; others looked like they could still be lived in today.
I love castles. The first time I brought my partner back to the UK in 2022, we went to so many castles that my mum, who at the time was still in the mid-stages of Alzheimer’s, started complaining that she was bored. It felt like one of those funny full circle moments from when I was a kid and we were always being dragged around to National Trust places.
That said, she found ways to entertain herself (and us), though. She gave someone a detailed rundown of her childhood growing up in a castle that had been ruined for at least 200 years; told the English Heritage ticket collector that she volunteered with English Heritage every Wednesday (much to my dad's chagrin); and then turned around to my partner when they were sitting outside and conspiratorially asked him if this was where the magic was.
At the time, I cringed, badly.
Now, though, those tiny moments live on in my happy memory pile. There have been so many torturous times in this journey that I've been trying to stockpile the good ones; a rose-tinted nostalgia treasure trove that I can dip into when times get tough.
That's where the magic is, now. That and doing what I can to fill my own cup before I come and while I'm here so I have enough capacity to hold the unknown, whatever that might be.
This is my third year in a row coming back to visit my mum. Each time is tougher, in many ways, but it’s also easier, too. I know more about what to expect, but I also know to take better care of myself before I arrive so I don't arrive fully depleted like I did the first time.
Back then, I hadn't seen her in nearly four years and almost everything had changed in that time. I was so consumed with grief and guilt for choosing to live on the other side of the world that I found myself getting irritated with her for telling people she used to live in the castle and asking where the magic was.
I couldn't just go with the flow or align the woman in front of me with the one who I'd known my whole life. My mind couldn't comprehend it or handle it all.
Now, though, I feel a little more prepared - although it honestly feels like she's aged a decade in the year since I last saw her. I wasn't expecting her to recognise me when I saw her for the first time in a year over breakfast yesterday; but she did. It was like one of those movie moments.
She said “Oh Cass, I never thought I'd see you again!” and cried. And then less than 10 seconds later she was back eating her cereal and staring blankly ahead like nothing had happened.
It was more than I was expecting, so I found myself tearing up, too. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say much. She offered me some cereal, I said I was good, thanks, but it was very kind of her.
Then she started spooning it onto the table instead.
Now, I can laugh about it. My own cup feels sufficiently full enough that I'm in a place where I can see the amusement in it rather than being faced by the shocking void of all that had been lost. Time passing has probably helped, too - like a kind of exposure therapy, I guess.
The more time goes by, the more I've accepted our fates. I know we're all on a one way journey, but hers feels shorter and sharper than most. It isn't pretty, but this stuff never is. It's just that often in life we shy away from it; sweep it under the table.
Like castles, we love the majestic ones and we love the ruins, but we struggle with the in between ones - the halfway-up halfway-down ones that need too much maintenance to get back up to scratch and yet are still a bit too nice to just abandon to fate and the elements.
Right now, it feels like that's where we're at. The in-between limbo land. The doctors have signed her off as a lost cause, but she's still compos mentis enough to recognise someone, even for just a second.
She's too far gone to live at home without help, but my dad thinks she's not quite gone far enough to be full time in a home, yet. He has found a good one, though, which is a bit like a castle in itself. The building was built in 1862 and played host to massive pre-war parties for the elite before becoming a hospital, a nursery, and a nursing home.
I especially love the ruined gardens, which were once opulent and incredible and are now overgrown with nature. There are passion fruit vines climbing the old bricks and views over the rolling hills.
She goes there almost every day while my dad is at work and stays over if he needs a break. Which means it finally really does feel like she's living in a castle - at least some of the time.
Maybe she was just predicting the future.
I like that idea. I've been delving deep into myths and folklore recently - it seems to go hand in hand with my fascination with castles and ruined things. I've been reading about crones and truth tellers and elders and wise folk who were able to speak and see things from beyond out realm.
I've written before about how sometimes I like romanticising this stuff with my mum; like dreaming that she's off with the fae. Like she fell asleep in a faerie glen and woke up in another dimension and ate the fae food and now can't come back to our world.
As humans, we've always used stories to try and make sense of things we can't understand, but I’ve been diving in deeper these last few years; there is so much solace to be found in our shared imaginations.
I especially love the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander storytelling traditions in Australia - oral storytelling was used to pass down everything from moral codes to traditions, lore, law, knowledge, and wisdom. Stories have been able to be used to pinpoint geological events and timeframes with startling accuracy.
Stories also help to dissipate shame; to bring secrets and misunderstood things into the light so they can be held together and better understood.
Like the folks who quietly let their castles fall into disrepair, there's shame in secrets and shadows, but none in the light. I feel the same way with writing about Alzheimer’s and sharing these stories here.
Writing about it helps - even if these posts are a little harder to write and edit and more stream-of-consciouness than usual. It's harder for me to come up with articulate points and edit when I'm typing on my phone between commitments, but I do want to get it out; to document it all. To let it all out into the light and not fester in the shadows.
I promise when I'm back, it'll be business as usual, but I hope you’ve enjoyed these little snippets of day to day life and the photos.
For now, though, it's time to go and pack for the next stage of our trip tomorrow. I'm off to meet my niece for the first time! Yippee.
Catch you next week.
All my love,
Cxxx
PS: If you're interested in the travel itinerary then Vienna was incredible! My personal highlight was the Imperial Crypt, but honestly it was all pretty good. I could've walked around for hours!
Right now, I'm in East Grinstead, my hometown. It's known for its tudor-fronted houses, Winnie the Pooh, the Guinea Pig Club, Scientology, and the 1989 rave scene.
Tomorrow, I'll be just south of Manchester in the Peaks. I then head back to Australia in about 10 days. It's crazy how quickly these trips fly by. I can't believe I've already been to 3 countries and 4 places!
PPS: I have a few slots opening up at the end of September for new mentoring clients.
As we're getting into the final quarter of the year, I've been thinking of offering some one-off sessions or a short series to help people take steps to achieving their 2024 goals by the of the year.
If you came into the year full steam ahead with all sorts of big dreams and goals but haven't quite managed to get them off the ground and don't want to give up on them yet, I'm here to help. Reach out via my website or drop me a line and we can have a chat!
PPPS: I will be officially launching my behind- the-paywall offerings here when I get back from the UK (and finish all the articles I have teed up). In the meantime, if you'd like to support me you are welcome to upgrade your subscription ahead of time (every dollar counts!) or buy me a coffee. I'm so grateful to you all!