Sunday
Mum was sound asleep today.
She did stir when I went in but I’m not 100% certain she knew who it was.
She nodded weakly in response to the questions
- Are you ok?
- Are you warm enough?
- Shall I rearrange your pillows?
- Is that better?
I read to her for a bit after I’d run out of news to tell her just so that she could hear a familiar voice. I guessed that it wouldn’t matter too much what I read so I just read the book I’m reading for myself rather than go another lap round Father Okoli’s Cotswold parish.
“Shall I read a bit more Mum?”
Nothing.
Author’s Note
My Mum is in a nursing home in a small village in the Thames Valley. The photo is not of the home. I used an AI image generator to give the reader some idea of the home she’s in.
All, some or maybe even none (you’ll never know!) of the names have been changed to protect privacy and hide real identities. If you think you recognise someone then let me know and I’ll edit the post or remove it entirely
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