As I shall be writing about Leaf in some of my future posts, I thought I should introduce new readers to the man himself. Those who know him, know him, well quite a lot about him, but there’s always the behind closed doors aspect to a relationship. I’m not going to go into that in depth of course, but I can skim the surface of the private person as I’ve come to know him.
We met on June 23rd2001 – here’s a wee (shortened) extract from my second book, ‘HANGING ONTO HOPE’, which is about my first impression:
It’s Saturday morning market and I’m at the Café de Midi, my old stamping ground. Out on the terrace there’s a seat at a large table of females, all of whom I know. One calls me over. This morning she isn’t alone. Her companion is the only man in the group.
I take him in at a glance – casually dressed in a faded Indian cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, navy summer slacks and sandals. His hair is dark with a distinctive grey streak in the front. His tinted glasses all but obscure his eyes. He doesn’t look like the usual Brit male but I sense he’s English.
She introduces him ‘Sue, this is Leaf.’
‘Hello,’ I reach across to shake his hand.
‘Hi, Sue.’ He leans forward and smiles.
We neither have anything further to say, but I find myself watching him surreptitiously as he lounges in his chair, gazing round the table with the trace of an amused grin lingering at the corners of his mouth. I imagine he’s wondering how long he’ll have to sit and listen to the female chit-chat. For some reason, I detect a kindred spirit in this man, and something else I can’t quite pin down. Whichever, his tolerant but, I guess, reluctant presence, reminds me I don’t want really to be here either; that the cheerful piffle isn’t my cup of tea. Nonetheless, something keeps me in my seat and I hang around for a while before forcing myself to get up and announce I have to go.
As I leave the terrace and cross the road to my car, I can’t resist looking round. Somehow I know I’m being watched. Yes, I am. I smile and wave and so does Leaf.
I would never have guessed then that, seventeen years later, I’d be married to this man, living in the Gers and looking after him.
But I’m still joyful – we’ve had a wonderful time together. He’s my soul-mate and has allowed me to truly be myself, warts and all. He’s a very good man – kind, tolerant, gentle, laid-back and funny as well as intellectually inspiring. Our life has been and continues to be about love, but now, that love is being intruded upon by an uninvited guest – AD. We’re learning to accommodate him but on occasion he’s such a bugger, it’s very difficult.
Leaf never had a great memory for everyday stuff and was known at school by the French master as ‘J’ai oublié’ (I’ve forgotten)! However, his memory for facts is phenomenal. With the arrival of AD in our lives, trivia domestica (as I call the everyday stuff) is becoming harder and harder for him to retain. The rest is, mercifully, still there and long may it remain.
So although we battle to find ways to cope, we’re able to talk openly. I’m blessed to be married to a man who is brave, stoic and never in pointless denial.
Each day is to be treasured as a precious gift.
doodahtwo.home.blog 
All good wishes to you and Leaf. As a member of the Jenkins family – you have regularly sent us blogs – I want to keep in touch. Auntie Joyce and Uncle John were a friendly part of my childhood. Eileen (my Mum) would also like to hear from you. Anne.
Thank you Anne. I will reply privately.
I lost my mother to this awful disease so I will be with you in spirit…chat soon…x S
I’m so sorry, Simon. I am beginning to learn how devastating it can be, but we soldier on of course.
Hi Sue what a very positive and helpful website this will be for sufferers, carers and friends.
Much love
Sharon
Thanks, Sharon. We’ll be doing our best.
So sorry to hear this Sue, I didnt know, but a wonderful idea to share your experiences. I’m sure they’ll be invaluable. All the best to both of you xx
Thanks Nikki – that’s absolutely the idea. If we can help others cope, that’s the main thing. And we hope those days of endless hospital visits are over for Ryan and all of the family. He’s looking great. Such a brave guy – an example to many. x
A lovely introduction to your new blog Sue. I hope it goes well. Love to you both and looking forward to seeing you next month.
Thanks Paul – glad you like the intro and hope you’ll like future posts too. Next month isn’t far off now – looking forward too.
Dear Sue. So sorry to hear this news about my dear cousin. Nigs grew up with us just like a brother -so many happy memories. Please keep us in touch and send him our love. Look after yourself too. Love Annie and Jim xx
Thank you Annie and Jim. I will email you with progress and, of course, pass on your love. I’m being careful with myself too! xx
Very inspiring Sue, and I am of course sorry to hear the news. I hope you both continue to be positive and I will follow the blogs with interest.
My father’s brother developed early onset Alzheimer’s, which in the late 1960’s was very puzzling and difficult to handle for his relatives. My father sadly could not cope with the illness of his brother, and little was done for sufferers in those times. So I am pleased with the advances that have been made and more importantly the information that is out there if you persevere.
Thank you, Jenny.
How very sad about your uncle – I can vaguely remember that dementia was something to be ashamed of. I plan for DOODAH to demystify it and really help those who come into contact with it – and others as well, of course.
As a former carer, I can attest to the progress within the last decade in diagnosis and support available to both patient and carer, paramount in the physical and mental health and well-being of each. While the big C is said to touch us all, we’re no longer reluctant to talk about it. More and more of us sense that we could also face the big D. Thank you for sharing your insights and experiences. I wish you and Leaf the best journey possible. xx
Thanks Paula. Yes you, of all people, are aware that there’s been a lot of progress and DOODAH will be posting about that in one way or another. You’re quite right about the big C, we realise we can no longer afford to hide from it. Your work with Cancer Support France will have taught you much. Finding myself in a carer’s role again, I agree it’s high time we do all we can to de-mystify dementia and remove the stigma once and for all.
Hallo darling. I’ve been grappling with dementia for many years now. Not mine so far, but my father, my (now-deceased) father-in-law and currently my 93-year-old mother-in law. I know, that just like my old friend Leaf (and my mother) my memory has never been top-notch. The question is whether this is some fairly normal gradual deterioration or something more serious. Still, I guess we don’t find out until we get there do we? Personally, all my life, whenever I have put a screwdriver down it immediately disappears. This makes it difficult to separate the usual from the unusual. Oh well – WTF – we’ll find out won’t we?
Hi John, It’s a scary business, I know. I find myself forgetting stuff and doing occasional weird things but as the rest of my functions seem to be firmly in place, I’m putting it down to my age. So sorry to hear how much dementia you and Caroline have had to cope with. Sometimes I count myself lucky to have lost my parents whilst still young. I was 37 when my dad died (heart) and 49 when mother went (stroke). If asked what stage of dementia Leaf is at, I would say 3 but the stage descriptions differ from source to source – no surprise. If you want to check yourself out, you can find tests online. Get Caroline to organise them for you as timing is all important. Good luck if you decide to.
Oh Sue our hearts go out to you and Leaf, it seems so unfair for you both to have to cope with this just when you should both be enjoying your retirement in your new home. Leaf is such a cool man and I admire him very much.
I do hope we can see you both later this year,
All our best wishes and love
Ian & Debs xxx
Thanks Ian and Debbie for your loving message. Yes, it is a rotten twist of fate but we’re learning to adapt and are getting an enormous amount of moral support as well as practical. Very much hope you can make it before too long.
Love from us xxxx
Dear Sue and Leaf
It is indeed a rotten twist that you two have to cope with this. You are a lovely kind couple who I admire greatly. I know your strength of character will help enormously with what lies ahead for you both. xxxx
Thank you Caroline. Yes, fate can be beastly at times, but we will definitely be making the most of it and hopefully, helping others along the way.