Friday, 20 March

Friday, 20 March

Wendy came over to us today, which was really helpful. She also had to get her car serviced; someone from the garage picked it up, so everything fitted very well.

We got Mum's teeth brushed, and made more tea and Complan; she had a little bit of that but, really, we can all see the way it is going. Throughout the day, I continued making fresh tea and Complan, and we persevered with little sips and spoonfuls - every 5 ml. is better than nothing. We are also meant to give Mum four pills in the morning, but it is impossible to get her to take them; she also needs 10ml of potassium three times a day, which happily comes as a syrup, and Mum can manage that.

Her voice is now just a whisper, and so reedy; I played piano and we all sang, and we could see Mum trying to mouth the words, but nothing very much came out. At least she can still hear! and we keep talking and telling her she is doing well, and that she is fine.

We rang Al and I held the landline phone to Mum's ear, and she tried to respond to him:

"How are you?!" he bellowed.

Mum whispered, "I'm fine...."

Then Al was able to call us on Wendy's mobile phone as on a Skype call (except that it wasn't Skype - all too technical for me!) and we had pictures up on the screen of each other. I held up the phone in front of Mum, and hoped she could see him - Al could certainly see her. He showed us Roxy, his smiling Newfoundland - her tail is the most dangerous part of her, and very likely to clear a table of anything on it - she is such a gorgeous dog!

Al was very ready to drive up to see us, but he and Hannah are self-isolating at the moment; Al thinks he is fine, but is not sure if Hannah has got the corona virus, so that is a worry.  We agreed to hold fire for another day and see how Mum is.

Wendy had brought Mum a Mother's Day "Grandma" card, and I gave Mum a Happy Mother's Day card. We opened the cards with her, and read the verses inside, and what we had all written. We got out Al's card as well, and reminded Mum how Al had given it to her a couple of weeks ago; she liked them all, and I left them standing on the table for her.

I stroked Mum's hair, and I asked her, "Ma - do you love me?"

And, God bless her, I could hear her say, "I do."

"And I love you, too," I told her.

A bit later on, I asked her again: "Ma - do you love me?"

Something in her brain is still connected, because again she replied, "I do."

I reassured her once more: "And I love you, too."

I think we should all tell each other out loud, that we love each other.