Mum wasn’t at her best when I visited this week. Getting her out of a chair to move to another part of the home and then encouraging her to sit down when we get there seems more of a challenge with each visit. Her confusion is greater these days – the little monologues which mean nothing to me more frequent.
But we still sang and laughed. Mum is 80 next February, something I mentioned to her in passing.
“Who’s 80 next year Mum?”
“I don’t know. (Pause, long pause). You?”
So there you have it. Though I say it myself, I’m not ageing too badly.
When things are a little bleak and Mum appears distressed, laughter – usually at my expense – isn’t far away.
Now to plan my 80th birthday party…..