To Rachel
The day you were born
"She's such a bonny baby," they told me
You lay in your crib
Being fed through a tube
My heart overflowed with love
When you were one
"She's a beautiful baby," they told me
Diagnosis confirmed
'The professionals' entered our lives
No longer a 'normal' family
My heart overflowed with love
When you were two
"She's such a pretty little girl," they told me
Epileptic seizures were increasingly frequent
Visual impairment marred your first steps
'The professionals' seemed to rule our lives
My heart overflowed with love
When you were three
"She's so lovely," they told me
I could no longer juggle caring and work
Reduced income meant extra stress for us all
We fought to get the support you needed in nursery
My heart overflowed with love
Now you are four
"She's such a delight," they tell me
Behaviour problems at nursery
Temper tantrums at home
We search for a school that will meet your special needs
While helping you realise your potential
The 'statementing process' begins
My heart overflows with love
Gail Scholes
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Always a team
My wife had a stroke six years ago and since then I have had to wash her, dress her, lift her, toilet her etc.
We had only known each other for four weeks when we married fifty-three years ago, and we were apart fourteen days of that four weeks. We are as much in love now as we were on our wedding day. The say "Marry in haste, repent at leisure." However, we have led very happy and useful lives and have been too busy to find the time to repent!
We have always worked together and helped a variety of people in a variety of ways throughout our married lives and continue to do so. As partners we have been active in a variety of voluntary, social and welfare activities.
Now that my wife needs support, I want to do everything for her, and she does not want help from anyone else. We both appreciate that this is not an ideal situation for either of us, but we have always been a team, and will remain so.
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Just A Button
It is time I had a throw out
This is something I have long delayed
I open a drawer of buttons and place them on a tray
There are lots of different sizes
And many odd shapes too
Red, pink and yellow
And some of them are blue
The majority are white ones
There are more than I can say
Probably off many clothes
That I have thrown away
When I was a child
Oh so full of fun
Collecting the odd buttons
My Mum did not sew on
Pink reminds me of my daughter
Who's all grown up and gone
Dresses, knitted cardigans
I sewed the buttons on
Green is for the boys
Yellow, blue and red
I remember all the times
They would not get out of bed
I start to dream of long ago
When for my grandchildren
I would sit and sew
Dolls and teddies, fancy dress
Coats, nighties and all the rest
It's just a tray of buttons
Oh! Here's one from long ago
It's off a soldier's uniform
A man I have come to know
Although he's in a wheelchair
And finds it hard to speak
We laugh, joke and fantasise
As he kisses me on my cheek
They are just a tray of buttons
That I should throw away
So I'll put them back in the drawer
And try another day
Beryl Rushton
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If you would like to send in a poem or writing about your experience of caring for someone, please send it to us at the address below.
Bolton Carers Support
23 Chorley New Road
Bolton
BL1 4QR
01204 363056
email: boltoncarers@btconnect.com
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