Sunday

Lesley’s still processing the events of the past few days. Of course she is. While she’s keen to join The Dog and me on the walks she’s detached and distracted and her nose is stuck to her phone like a teenager while we’re out.

She’s got thoughts churning around in her head and sometimes they leak out. One leak came from a conversation she’d had with her sister at Dad’s bedside in the days just before he died.

“She said she didn’t think we should move house. She says we can’t leave the area.”

“She said what!?”

The conversation had been about the plans we’d had about moving west and you’re going to need a bit of background.

The plan before either of our parents had become seriously unwell was that we’d fulfil the dream to move to the coast once the 9-5 no longer kept us in the Thames valley. Then, when Lesley’s dad needed more support, the plan changed to taking him with us. He thought that was a good idea. We put our house on the market and found a buyer while scouting round to find a house with an annexe. We showed him the house we’d found.

“But where am I going to put all my stuff?” he said.

And by “stuff” he meant all the things that he felt would be useful one day that he had accumulated and which filled a three bedroomed house.

“OK. Then we’ll find somewhere that’s got house suitable for you nearby.”

“Yeah.”

We somehow managed to keep our buyer and found a suitable alternative.

His response?

“No. I don’t want to move.”

“But you agreed!”

“I didn’t think you were serious. I thought it was all talk.”

Bloody hell.

Lesley’s explanation of this to her sister coincided with a visit from two of Lesley’s friends. While it wasn’t their first visit to Dad while he’d been in the nursing home it was the first of their visits that Lesley’s  sister had witnessed.

When they left, Lesley’s sister said

“Wow! What amazing friends! You can’t move away and leave them behind!”

“Well it’s not like I wouldn’t ever see them.”

“No. You mustn’t move. You’re lucky to have friends like that. I haven’t got friends like that.”

I nearly said that I wasn’t surprised she didn’t have close friends given that she keeps everyone at arm’s length. I also nearly said how unsurprised I was that she felt she had the right to tell Lesley how to live her life.

And then I thought better of it.

Author’s Note

My Mum was in a nursing home in the Thames Valley for a year and a half until she passed away in December 2024. My Father-in-law went into the same home the following January. But Lesley’s sister didn’t approve and made the situation so awkward that he had to be moved. He passed away in March 2025. Names and locations have been changed or hidden to protect the identities of those involved.

Image Credit

Original Image by Nick Gilmore. Extracted from the archive in 2024.