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maandag 3 oktober 2011

Nostalgia

You may have noticed that I'm not updating as regularly on Mode Plus as I used to. One of the reasons for this absence has to do with what I'm about to share with you today. I was hesitant about sharing this post with you, because the subject is a personal and vulnerable matter. Besides how real can you get on a personal style blog? I guess as real as you want it to be.  
So today, another side of the person behind the blog. 


This post may be heavy at heart for some. 



These past months has been rocky and challenging at the same time. Losing my grandmother made me more aware of the frivolousness of life. And I couldn't help to focus on my own parents, respectively in their 60's and 70's. The other day I read an article about a woman in her late 30's (just like me) who described her journey with her father. He was diagnosed with an incurable disease. What I found admirable is how she managed to make her journey a positive one despite the great grief and anguish she was experiencing. Her story was raw, honest, at times you could feel a sense of desperation through her words. Although the heaviness of her subject, as a reader you never gave up hope. Through the illness of her father she saw a chance to grow up and to embrace life. 


For her life was and is 
a big party of insecurities and risks. Everything changes, nothings stays the same. So, you might as well enjoy the moment. 
Isn't it something that you know death is a part of life. And you are aware that we all are mortal beings, but still when it is about our parents (or other loved ones), we think they can live forever. Okay, not exactly forever but you never think about a world without mom or dad around you. Until life is threatened. 


My father has been "battling" a form of Alzheimers disease for a while now. Every time I speak to him or when I go back home, he is more and more less of the father I remember. He is becoming this stranger who depends on the care of others. Someone told me: "well at least you have him and may say goodbye slowly. Others don't have that privilege".  There may be some truth in those words, but I can't help it but to feel helpless. Every time I'm ready to say goodbye, he remembers something. For a moment you hope. He'll get better. He won't lose his memories and his personality. It is daddy, TATA. Smart and strong, just like in my memories of him. 

 Ginny bag by Monki | H&M BiB striped sweater and accessories 


As I'm coping with the risks and insecurities of life, I accept my limits. I go through the emotions. One day I'm angry, another day I'm swept away by sadness. And yes, in all of this I live. I breath. I am. 




1 opmerking:

  1. Sweetheart. I am glad you shared this. We can not hide from life, and as you say, it is your perogative to decide how deep you go. Yours is my kind of personal fashion blog. My mothers grandmother had Alzheimers, as I may have shared with you. It is a cruel way to loose someone, that is how it felt for me and my fam. Grief is so individual, no? I love you so.

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Thank you for stopping by and commenting <3 Nefferth aka Mode Plus

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