Wednesday

My certainty that Mum would still be asleep and unresponsive today and that a visit would be pointless had a bit of a wobble early on but in the end I didn’t go. I did think about messaging Reggie to ask how she was but I didn’t do that either. I just felt too low. We both did.

Lesley was still tired from the visit to her dad, the conversation with her sister about him and the regulation sleepless night that follows. We were both also knocked sideways with the news from the US. I was certainly going through a PTSD episode. Another “That can’t possibly have just happened!!” situation just like in 2016 here and in the US.

We’ve only got ourselves to blame. We spent too much time in the left-of-centre bubble, too much time watching the Late Nite hosts from New York and LA, too much time listening to people who focussed on facts, rules and the law. We didn’t spend nearly enough time listening to people who don’t give a shit about any of that. Again.

Lesley had a good long natter with a friend she’s had since her first day at secondary school. Naturally, the conversation was largely about Dad. Lesley doesn’t know why the memory surfaced but it was really revealing. After Lesley’s mum died we used to take Dad with us on short holidays. He’s quite arty, I’m quite arty, so we went to St Ives a couple of times. There was nothing much to note on the first trip but the second one was odd. As per the first time we’d arrange trips out that we thought he’d like.

“They do boat trips out along the coast from the harbour Dad. Do you fancy it?”

“Yes.”

We got down there early and had a coffee.

“We ought to get our tickets now Dad.”

“I don’t fancy it.”

“What!? Why!? It’s a glorious day. The sea’s like a mill pond.”

“I’d rather sit here with a coffee and watch the world go by.”

Lesley checked with the staff to make sure it was OK for him to just sit there for a couple of hours and told him where we were going and how long we’d be. On our return we found him being comforted by a member of staff.

“He wanted me to call emergency services and report you missing!” she said.

He was frantic. He’d completely forgotten where we were going and what time we’d be back. Or maybe he just hadn’t heard properly and had said “OK” out of habit. Was it an early sign of his dementia that we’d missed? Possibly. It wasn’t the only time he’d been a bit strange that week.

Having spent a fair amount of time almost every day for the last eighteen months in the company of people with severe dementia I like to think I’d have spotted it. But this was ten years ago and I had no clue.

We were dog sitting today. Our neighbours were in meetings in London and we were invited to walk their dog for them. Two long walks helped take the edge off.

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