My visit to Mum yesterday coincided with a visit from Mandy, her hairdresser. In Mandy’s words, she and Mum often have “a good giggle” and yesterday was no exception.
As always these days, Mum took her lead from me. When I smiled, she smiled but she looked at me questioningly as if to say: I think I should know you but I’m not sure why. It’s a sobering experience. My sister says she’s not really Mum any more and I know what she means. If she doesn’t know her children, how can she be our Mum?
But then Mandy said something and that sense of loss disappeared.
“You should see how she looks at you.”
And I looked again. And again. And I saw it. She’s still my Mum.