Tea at the Ritz

Mum loves going for Tea at the Ritz.

It's a military operation getting Mum out for the occasion. The timing begins with the first morning call with the carers at 6.30 a.m, when the ladies get her up and washed and dressed and back in her chair, ready for me to take over for the rest of the breakfast shift.

We all pray that everything will go smoothly, with no arguments, and that Mum will co-operate with
getting her teeth brushed and then eating her cornflakes and drinking her tea.  In the mornings, it normally takes about three and a half hours from start to finish, before everything is done, and by then, Mum is ready for her mid-morning nap. So are we!

At about 1.00 p.m., Mum gets up again.  I make her sandwiches (I know, I know; she will have cucumber sandwiches at the Ritz!) but there would not be time for her to eat a proper meal at lunchtime - not with the wheelchair accessible taxi due a couple of hours later.

At 2.30 p..m, with the taxi ordered for 3.00 p.m., we start helping Mum to get changed and into some glad rags suitable for the occasion. If all goes well, that gives us plenty of time, but we always build in some slack in case Mum needs to go to the loo again before we leave.

With pad in place and spares packed in a bag in case of emergencies, we set off from home with one of our lovely drivers.  So far, we have had three gentlemen, and all have been terrifically helpful in making sure Mum is settled comfortably and safely in her wheelchair, and secured in the back of the taxi.

In that position, Mum is sitting up higher than anyone, so she has a good view of everything on the road.  As we get closer, we drive along the Embankment, and Mum notices all the landmarks and all the bridges, and the London Eye.

She has been on the London Eye a couple of times - when she was still able to walk; each time we went, we were blessed with fine weather and I ask her if she can remember going, and the wonderful views we had.

"Oh, it was lovely!"Mum enthuses.  I don't know if she is just being agreeable, but I hope that some of those memories have actually stayed with her.

When we turn into Northumberland Avenue, Mum always asks how much further we have to go; if the traffic is flowing, it's not far to The Ritz.

Our taxi gently glides to a halt outside the Hotel, where the Concierge opens the gate to the inner  courtyard.  We really appreciate the management organising this for us, as we are then all under cover, and it means we can wheel Mum out of the taxi and into the Hotel, without having to worry about whatever the weather may be throwing at us.  As we propel Mum through to the main part of the Ritz, she likes to pause and enjoy looking at all the beautiful jewellery on display in the glass cabinets.

When we are ready to be seated, one of the waiters produces a portable ramp, unrolls it over the marble stairs, and in a few seconds, Mum is wheeled up to the Palm Court.

You can see the look in Mum's eyes, as she takes everything in, in this beautiful setting - the opulent cream coloured Louis XVI style, the panelled mirrors in gilt bronze frames, the flowers, the music, and the sheer elegance of the place, is a treat for us all.

Over the years, we have smoothly slipped in to being regular partakers of tea in the Palm Court, and it is wonderful to see Mum blossom with all the attention she receives. Even though it might not be her birthday on a particular visit, she is always treated royally, and we are happy if it is Mum who receives a birthday cake; she's quite partial to a glass of champagne, too.

The Palm Manager always greets us personally, and makes sure the table is one Mum likes, and where she can see the pianist or harpist playing to entertain the guests.

Mum looks forwards for weeks to each visit. She knows exactly when we are going; for example, in 2016, her birthday on 28 October fell on a Friday. This was not a good day to get the family together, so I booked a table for the following day, on Saturday, 29 October.

In the weeks leading up to the big day, if anyone asked her (and even when they didn't!) what she was doing for her birthday, Mum would announce:

"We're going for Tea at the Ritz soon..... of course my birthday is the day before but Alex has booked up for the Saturday, because everyone can come then."

So some things sink in, and Mum has very clear and lucid understanding about them, including time scale, whom she will see, and she knows how much she is looking forward to the outing.

Whatever else Mum might remember or forget, she always remembers her visits for Tea at the Ritz, and I always think it is one of the best things we can do for Mum.  She looks forwards to the occasion with such pleasure; she enjoys herself thoroughly when we are there, and then she talks about it for weeks afterwards, and is really delighted when we show her photographs that were taken on the day.

I also think these special occasions remind her of a bygone age of elegance; with the Palm Court's beautiful decor, the chandeliers, and crisp tablecloths and silverware, everything contributes to a store of happy memories.  And not just for Mum; but for us, as well.