Mum Remembers a Dear Friend

Mum Remembers A Dear Friend.

We have a wonderful friend, June, who lives across the road from us; over all the years we have lived  here, she has been a dear friend and neighbour, always ready to visit Mum and spend time with her. 

Even before Mum broke her ankle, and had to stay with us permanently, June would come over and see Mum, and talk to her; if Mum was in a "funny mood" (i.e., grumpy and unpredictable), June would say,"Oh, I'll come and see her - she'll be alright!" And, after a short while in June's company, Mum was indeed "alright," and in a much happier frame of mind.

At one time, June also presented Mum a beautiful rug, which Mum uses a lot, draping it over her knees to keep her legs warm. 

Just before Christmas, June came over to see us, and we had a great time chatting about this and that, and generally setting the world to rights. When it was time for her to leave, June said she would look in on Mum in her bedroom, and say "Hello."

We weren't sure if Mum would remember her, so I went in with June, and said, 

"Mum...."

"Yes?" 

"June's come to see you - do you remember June? She lives just across the road."

And Mum's reply was a brilliant early Christmas present for us all.

Without any hesitation, Mum said, 

"Oh, yes, I remember June." Mum patted the rug on her knee: "She gave me this lovely shawl."

We all looked at each other, amazed and delighted that such a good memory is still tucked away somewhere inside Mum's head. 

I think it is so important never to stop trying to stimulate someone's memory, and perhaps bring back

something good to the forefront of their mind.  

I know June was equally thrilled that Mum had remembered her so clearly; and the best part about it was that Mum was actually wearing the rug June had given her. 

After nearly a month of not writing an entry in my blog - I'm back!

After nearly a month of not writing an entry in my blog - I'm back!

It's not that the spirit has not been willing, or the flesh has been weak - more a case of in the run-up to Christmas, the days flew faster than ever; in my childhood memory, the expression "The clock is going on gingerbread wheels," meant no-one could ever catch up with it, as preparations for the festive season gradually took over. Of course, Mum is our No.1 priority ("No. 1 priority" - is that tautology?!) and she is always cared for and attended to before anything else can happen; but I love Christmas, and I love the meaning of it, which for me means also getting in touch with dear friends and family, contacting people who will be on their own over Christmas, writing letters - e-mail and snail mail - and finding the opportunity to have chats on the phone and catch up on each other's news.

There's a gentle pleasure in knowing you've let folks know you are thinking of them and wishing them well, and this year, everything got done in good time.

I don't go mad on grocery shopping at Christmas; unless on the day you're catering for dozens of friends and relatives, where do people put away all the food filling their overflowing supermarket trollies? Just because it's a Christmas dinner, no-one in our family can eat two or three times as much as they usually do, so my extra shopping consisted of a turkey (yup, I'm traditional when it comes to turkey), and Yorkshire puddings; an extra pack of carrots and peas, a stem of brussels sprouts (I'm not keen, but the rest of the family is!), and the usual turnip, swede and cauliflower vegetables, along with roast potatoes.  Oh, yes, and I got a chocolate Yule Log.... I am very partial to all things chocolatey, as anyone who knows me will confirm.

My main concern is getting everything cooked and ready to serve at the same time; this year, on Tuesday, it all went smoothly.

Mum did extremely well; she joined us at the dining table, and we all helped to make sure she ate properly. It was such a treat for me to have all my loved ones together at the same time, and also for Mum to take part in the festivities. Afterwards, we repaired to the lounge to open our lovely gifts, and  took a couple of photos so we can remind Mum later on of all that we did on Christmas Day.

We sang carols around the piano until the carers came at 8.30 p.m. (earlier than usual this evening, because they also needed to get all their calls finished, and have some time with their own families); after such an eventful day, Mum was very ready for bed!