Coming away from the nursing home on Thursday, I was glad we had come, even though Mum didn’t know I was there.
I had kissed her hands and her forehead, told her I loved her and said goodbye, the parcels and crossword books left on the table at the end of the bed.
I contacted both of my brothers, OB was hoping to visit yesterday.
I rang the home today and Mum has rallied. I was told she was much brighter and had had breakfast and her dinner with the other residents in the dining room.
I asked to speak to her and as we spoke, I felt I was losing her again. She said she hadn’t had my card, and didn’t know I’d visited (though Sis text me to say she had told her so).
She asked where we were living and I told her we had returned to Lincolnshire having found a small house we could afford. I apologised for being so far away again, but I would continue to write. She said she liked to get my letters, though Sis had told me she didn’t read them and that she read them to her.
I asked if she had seen my brother and she said no. She’d just finished her dinner but couldn’t tell me what she’d had, just that she was enjoying a cup of coffee now.
I’m hoping he did visit and it was a good one with her.
When I hung up, I was upset. My visit with Mum on Thursday was very precious even though it may never register with her that I was there. I had a text from Sis to say Mum was better today, but I’d already spoken to her by then.
I wonder if my sister appreciates how lucky she is to be able to visit as often as she does and share the good days.