Went to see mum yesterday and it was good and bad...
When I arrived she wasn't in her bed. My first reaction was that of a TV drama...Aaaaaah...SHE'S DEAD! Then, it was immediately replaced with, oh, She must be down in the lounge. She's so often in her bed, that I expect nothing less on a visit. So I went to find her and she was all slumpy in a chair, but looked content. She smiled when I arrived and I chatted to her and gave her a cup of tea in a beaker. It kept dribbling out the side of her mouth and I made her giggle when I said I'd not missed my vocation in nursing! Then I painted her nails.
She has beautiful nails. Absolutely stunning. Yet she never wore varnish, not even the clear kind. She didn't like the colour when I asked her, but actually she was answering "no" to every question I asked yesterday! She fell asleep when I massaged her hands and it made varnishing a little tricky, but she seemed to quite enjoy it. It was a really special, intimate hour spent as mother and daughter. But then I had to go. She needed socks and I told her I'd be back in half an hour. As usual she just stared at me, but I continued to smile this ridiculously happy smile.
It was weird because the TV room had "Hollyoaks" booming out loud at all these residents who's combined age must be 500, and I felt part of a surreal dream as they sat and watched one part which showed a man about to kiss another man in a tender embrace. For a lot of the people watching, if the world didn't make sense before sitting down to watch TV, it certainly didn't afterwards... It's a modern day teen-soap, and I felt it was a bit out of touch with their generation, but...that's just a detail.
Anyway, on my return, as has happened so many times, mum was terribly sad. I approached her in the chair and she had tears rolling down her cheeks again, in silent anguish and pain. I couldn't bear it. I tried to cheer her a little but she just opened her mouth to speak, but as always, can't. So the tears just poured. She painfully and slowly lifted one arm just to wipe a tear and I felt like howling.
And there we sat, mother and daughter, in silence, holding hands and crying together. I just sat, as she did, and let the tears roll til they dropped of my face. When she looked at me we just cried again, the two of us. It was all we could do.
I said "I don't know what to do, mum. I don't know what to do", and she just stared at me and cried.
I spoke to a member of staff and as I was waiting, another elderly resident called at me "little girl, little girl". It was funny and very poignant, because she was seeing me exactly as I felt. Just a little girl.
But I asked the staff to move mum to her room and they did so immediately. She seemed more at peace when I left but I felt the life had drained from me. It was a semblance of what mum must feel too.
When I arrived she wasn't in her bed. My first reaction was that of a TV drama...Aaaaaah...SHE'S DEAD! Then, it was immediately replaced with, oh, She must be down in the lounge. She's so often in her bed, that I expect nothing less on a visit. So I went to find her and she was all slumpy in a chair, but looked content. She smiled when I arrived and I chatted to her and gave her a cup of tea in a beaker. It kept dribbling out the side of her mouth and I made her giggle when I said I'd not missed my vocation in nursing! Then I painted her nails.
She has beautiful nails. Absolutely stunning. Yet she never wore varnish, not even the clear kind. She didn't like the colour when I asked her, but actually she was answering "no" to every question I asked yesterday! She fell asleep when I massaged her hands and it made varnishing a little tricky, but she seemed to quite enjoy it. It was a really special, intimate hour spent as mother and daughter. But then I had to go. She needed socks and I told her I'd be back in half an hour. As usual she just stared at me, but I continued to smile this ridiculously happy smile.
It was weird because the TV room had "Hollyoaks" booming out loud at all these residents who's combined age must be 500, and I felt part of a surreal dream as they sat and watched one part which showed a man about to kiss another man in a tender embrace. For a lot of the people watching, if the world didn't make sense before sitting down to watch TV, it certainly didn't afterwards... It's a modern day teen-soap, and I felt it was a bit out of touch with their generation, but...that's just a detail.
Anyway, on my return, as has happened so many times, mum was terribly sad. I approached her in the chair and she had tears rolling down her cheeks again, in silent anguish and pain. I couldn't bear it. I tried to cheer her a little but she just opened her mouth to speak, but as always, can't. So the tears just poured. She painfully and slowly lifted one arm just to wipe a tear and I felt like howling.
And there we sat, mother and daughter, in silence, holding hands and crying together. I just sat, as she did, and let the tears roll til they dropped of my face. When she looked at me we just cried again, the two of us. It was all we could do.
I said "I don't know what to do, mum. I don't know what to do", and she just stared at me and cried.
I spoke to a member of staff and as I was waiting, another elderly resident called at me "little girl, little girl". It was funny and very poignant, because she was seeing me exactly as I felt. Just a little girl.
But I asked the staff to move mum to her room and they did so immediately. She seemed more at peace when I left but I felt the life had drained from me. It was a semblance of what mum must feel too.
