A family affair

During this week when I'm preparing for going away in a few days time, there are a couple of things on my mind.
One is my Uncle who hasn't been well for a period with Alzheimer's but by December had got the point his partner felt they had little choice other than to place him on a trail basis in a care home simply because he needed round the clock supervision as he's forget if he'd taken tablets, time of day and tellingly couldn't put names to faces.
Indeed on at least a couple of occasions to my knowledge he'd gone missing, going toward a past 'home' with no realization it was no long the one he was at.
My relationship with him as with most males in my family was one of not feeling comfortable around which was no reflection on him personally but due to ahem 'other' experiences in childhood  so until my mid teens I'd pretty much hide from him whenever we were around.
Things are concerning at the moment for him being in Hospital with a major infection which is proving hard to treat and indeed they are unable to get a camera into him to look in his system.
Moreover he just seems to be lying in bed, not saying anything from tiredness not itself being aided by not eating any food for days.
It isn't shall we say looking good at all. 
Thursday February 1st was the day in which my Aunts funeral service was held locally and what she meant to me was written on the other blog. I have been walking and looking at her house not that it was comfortable but simply because I know  I'll never be heading to or entering into it as I remembered it and so I need to say a kind of farewell to that part of my life.
My Aunt's eulogy  read out by the Minister of the chapel she grew up in as a girl was really well put together showing how her Methodist upbringing had shaped how she lived her life, a life it has to be said made difficult by severe Asthma and the care and concern she had for others.
To be with her as I was  often in difficult situations in my messy family situations even past eighteen armed with a teddy and children's books feeling misunderstood  and in need of affection one felt this.
Her home, shared at the time with her parents was in so many was a second home, a refuge where my what now would seen as littles age regressed side was a place where they accepted developmentally disabled me as that caring and dealing with that adult but child was vital and from which older members of the community learned to understand and accept me as I am. They bought me simple child-like gifts such as annuals and selection boxes  finding by valuing me what I had to offer them because love is reflected by love. Always.
Among effects I was gifted a grey and white stuffie which is pretty apt given how I am rather than anything really groan up and that it was the first place I could just be this adult-child being accepted by her and her parents without judgment.