Remembering Kim Foale
Ahh the Golden days of mummy blogging – or whatever it was us peripherical misfit non-mummy bloggers were doing at the times. Whatever it was it really was about the friends we made along the way, and one of them was Kim of Frog Ponds Rock, kinda a mummy figure to many of us, Mum to Veronica, and one of the first middle aged women I knew diagnosed with Autism (Think she was fifty at the time) with many more of the blogging crowd to follow. They’re in Tasmania, and I had the privilege to be picked up from the airport by Kim and visit her home and studio and visit Veronica at home – she was pregnant with her youngest who’s in highschool now. I was down for a speech pathology conference, it wasn’t a great time in my life but I remember those visits fondly. I was devastated when Veronica’s house burnt down, it was always a work in progress before that and I remember parts of it from my visit and ugh, why do bad things happen to good people? (Check your smoke alarms, it’s the reason the humans were able to get out at least).
This is an amazing tribute to Kim. I was sitting with my own mum who’s in the rehab hospital when I saw Veronica’s post that Kim had died that morning. Kim was 60. Mum’s 69 on Thursday and was in great health until the sudden brain bleed January 28, with another a few weeks later. She’s back in good health now, but is disabled by it, will probably have to use a wheelchair for the rest of her life, needs hoisting in and out of bed, is getting function back in her right hand – at least she’s left dominant right? But for someone who truly prefers to do things for herself it’s a huge adjustment, all the other stuff aside.
So mum and I were watching a gameshow, she was back in bed after a busy day at rehab – gym, arm exercises etc. I as scrolling my phone and the post seemed so sudden, because it was. Kim had been in hospital but was meant to be getting out that morning.
I know Veronica’s worries are now with her father – how will he cope with her suddenly gone, no matter how beautifully maddening Kim could be at times with her wonderful creativity and neurodivergence and just being a good soul. I worry the same for Dad. He’s been in crisis mode since the stroke, and hasn’t really come down from it. Still visiting every day. Still off work, but not ready to retire officially, even though age and his own health wise, let alone mum’s would make sense. He’s still overwhelmed about the prospect of renovating the house to get mum back but I think is more confronted by the idea of her going to a nursing home, either while that’s done or permanently. And I worry what would become of him then?
Mum keeps saying her first reaction to the rehab teach recommending aged care was that she’s not old. And she’s not. She’s also the healthy one, the one that looked after herself, did all the right things. And was there for everyone else. So being the one needing care is a big adjustment.
I still hope to get her home. But in the meantime, her wheelchair’s been approved (manual but she’s warming to the idea of getting the power adaptation) and we’ve been looking at vehicles to get her around in regardless of where she’s spending the night – the Voxy is one cool little option dad’s warming to with encouragement.
So, it’s all a big thing, but something I’m even more grateful for after Kim’s sudden passing. Grateful we’ve had the last four months no matter how hard they’ve been and that we’ll have whatever time is ahead. All mum can do is keep her blood pressure low (it was never high) and no take anything blood thinning to have to best chance of not having another bleed. But it may be sudden or, like I said to her, we might have another 20 years ahead of us and I want to get the house and equipment right if I’m going to be caring for her til I’m in MY sixties.
So, we take it as it comes. We enjoy the little things, eat the little cakes, look after our own health so we can all look after each other. Gp for my partner today, looking into some of his own health issues after years of ignoring them. I’ll see my own GP Friday for my scripts and will probably get the form for my annual bloodwork that hopefully still says that I many be fat but my numbers look good. Harassing my father to try to follow up things so he can care for mum – physio mostly since his own knees are not young and spritely any more, and trying to help my sister to where I can.
And of course Maxi. Maxi just has sensitive skin so it’s baths and creams and anti-allergy pills wrapped in cheese for him.
Go buy some soap from Veronica, or food for her foster kitties. Or help me and my little family out here.
