And Now, The Backstory To An Eventful Day

And Now, The Backstory To An Eventful Day

There is always a lot to do before we can set off in the wheelchair-accessible taxi and be driven to the Ritz; I am always aware that things can go wrong, right up to the last minute, but with faith and hope in our hearts, we were up bright and early in the morning - and so was Mum.

The previous day - Friday - had seen Mum extremely bright-eyed and bushy tailed; after being awake all day, and not sleeping when she went back to bed that afternoon for a nap, she did not sleep on Friday night, either. I went in to see her at midnight, 1.00 a.m., 1.30 a.m., 2.00 a.m. - and Mum was still wide awake and chatty - and at one point, told me she was ready to get up. I felt she was a little bit like a child waiting for Father Christmas on Christmas Eve: you know Father Christmas won't come if you are still awake, but you just can't get off to sleep.

With Mum still awake at 3.00 a.m. on the Saturday morning, I was absolutely tired out; with a final instruction to Mum, "Close your eyes now, and try and get some sleep!" - to which she replied, "I have got my eyes closed, but sleep isn't coming!" - I went off to bed, and hoped Mum would get a few hours' sleep herself.

But she didn't. When the carers arrived to wash her and dress her in nice clean clothes, Mum was still awake - on overdrive, but somewhere, the tiredness must have been making itself felt, because she was less able to co-operate and follow directions, which is always a sign that she needs to rest.

We followed the routine as best we could; Mum brushed her teeth and then I made breakfast - cornflakes and tea, and I put out the four pills she takes each day. She had a few mouthfuls of cereal and her tablets, followed by the tea, so at least her fluid levels were topped up; but she was too tired to have many more cornflakes, so we left them.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed by in a bit of a blur. Apart from making sure Mum was o.k., I also needed to get ready; an old RN joke is that for ladies to get their make up on and hair styled for a big "do," it requires as much time as a six months' dockyard job for a full overhaul on a ship! But I can definitely get it all done much more quickly than that.

The taxi was ordered for 3.30; as arranged, the carers were back at 2.30, to take Mum to the loo and help me to get her dressed and into the wheelchair.

By this time, Mum had been awake for about 30 hours, and it showed. She was reasonably co-operative, but it was almost as though she was on automatic pilot; although she wasn't asleep, things were not getting through to her.

Just in time, Mum was settled in the wheelchair; I told her our lovely driver, Eddie, would be along very soon to take us to The Ritz, but I wasn't sure she had understood what I was going on about. I just hoped that once we were in the taxi, and bowling along, she would perk up and wake up and enjoy the afternoon.

And indeed she did. Perhaps being in the fresh air for a few minutes as she was wheeled from the house to the taxi helped, and then we were off, bowling down the road. As we neared the Embankment, Eddie noticed there was quite a build-up of traffic, so he turned off to make a detour and avoid the worst of it; Mum noticed we weren't going on our usual route, so I took that as a good sign.

We arrived at The Ritz just before 5.00 p.m; the Concierge opened the gates to the car park, and we drove in, up to the wheelchair accessible entrance to the Hotel. A few minutes later, we were all settled in the lounge, with spare time to relax and take a few photographs.

We really think it must be time,
Now you're celebrating ninety-nine
To book a table at The Ritz -
The only venue that really fits
For such a special birthday treat
The Palm Court is the place we'll meet
And eat elegant sandwiches, salmon and ham,
And beautiful cakes, and scones and jam.

It took some time; there was much to plan
To ensure the day just flowed
Everyone played their part to help
Get us safely on the road.
Now happy memories we'll recall
A memorable day enjoyed by all.

And so, we made it! and even if it was only a couple of hours in elegant surroundings, I also felt I'd had a longer time away from home, than had actually passed.  Our lovely driver arrived at 7.30 to drive us home, and helped us get Mum into her bedroom; I made Mum another cup of tea and a slice of coconut cake. By then she was really tired, and when the ladies arrived to get her into bed, she was ready for it.

Mum's 99th Birthday Celebrations

Mum's 99th Birthday Celebrations

Well, we made it!

We had wonderful day on Saturday, 27 October, when we celebrated Mum's birthday with Tea at the Ritz. As I've written before, whatever else Mum remembers or forgets, she always remembers our visits to The Ritz; the Palm Court Manager and his staff remember us, and everyone makes such a fuss of her. Mum looks forward to the day, enjoys it whilst we are there, and talks about it for weeks afterwards.

She loves the elegance of the Palm Court, and variety of sandwiches (with one platter of cucumber sandwiches made to order just for Mum and me, very simple plain white bread and butter with no other dressing - and, of course, no crusts!) followed by scones, cream and jam, cakes, and a great selection teas on the menu from which to choose.

I think the whole ambience of The Ritz captures Mum's imagination, taking us all back to an age when things were done with style and panache. This visit was no exception, and afterwards Mum was presented with a copy of the beautiful centenary edition book about the Ritz Hotel, which is a lovely memento of the occasion.

It is never easy organising an event like this for someone like Mum who has dementia is disabled, but everyone played their part to make sure it all went smoothly and to time, and we had a very helpful driver of the wheelchair-accessible taxi who took us to and from the hotel.

From the happiness on Mum's face in the photographs, I think it shows all the effort was worthwhile, and goes to prove that, with everyone doing their bit, and co-operating with each other, nothing is impossible.

On this occasion, we were joined by our good friend Owen Hayward from the Epping Ongar Railway - and he is the young man who helped me to set up this blog, for which I am so grateful. Owen celebrated his 25th birthday two days after Mum's special day, and we were all so happy he could be with us and share a joyful experience.

I think Mum is now dreaming of the next time we can all go for Tea at the Ritz; with faith and hope, we shall have to see if we can arrange it.

Mum and Alex at The Ritz

We Let The Train Take The Strain....

We Let The Train Take The Strain....

Uncle John is a wonderful traveller; uncomplaining, relaxed, making the best of everything, and our trip by rail was really pleasant. I am definitely not as keen a motorist as Wendy, and I will always prefer to let the train take the strain, if that is in an option.

The only trouble with not having a car, though, is that it did restrict our sight-seeing. At 87, Uncle John was marvellous at walking, and kept up well, but I have to admit it would have been easier, if I had taken the car. We used taxis on a few occasions, which speeded up our visits to places of interest; the drivers were very chatty and interested when they learned Uncle John had been away from Liverpool for so many years. We had a problem only once, with a driver taking us to a restaurant for dinner. He had such a strong accent, and used so many dialect words - pure Scouse - meant we could barely understand what he was saying.

Uncle John kept looking at me, and I kept looking at him.

"What did he say?" whispered Uncle John.

"I don't know!" I mouthed back.

We understood probably about one word in every half a dozen, and just hoped we were saying "yes" and "no" in the right places! It was a relief when we arrived at the restaurant we'd picked for dinner.

We'd arranged another date with the reporter from the Liverpool Echo, and at last we all met up at lunch time, on a beautiful day. A photographer was on hand to record the occasion; whilst Uncle John chatted to Bill Leece, he was photographed in the gardens of St Nicholas Church with the Liver building in the background. Afterwards, we all had lunch together; it was such an enjoyable interlude, and so good for Uncle John to be able to talk about his old home city.

Uncle John in St Nicholas Church gardens,
with the Liver Building in the background

Reminiscing about his childhood and youth, Uncle John said, "I was born in Tuebrook and then we moved to Mossley Hill. Another family home was in Purley Grove, off Brodie Avenue; we went to see it, and the road seems so narrow, after all these years!"

Uncle John also wondered why the city had got rid of its trams? A few years ago, Croydon in Surrey installed a tram system and whilst there was great upheaval at the time, it has proved to be a great success. Uncle John said in Australia, Melbourne had refused to get rid of their trams, which was a wise decision; Brisbane, however, opted to replace trams with buses, which in his opinion were not as good.

Uncle John also remembered that his father had once worked as a window dresser at Lewis's, a chain of British department stores founded by David Lewis in 1856; Bill said it was such a shame we had not been able to visit Liverpool a little earlier, because the store had only recently closed, and it would have been so good to have had the chance to go inside and look round.

From this commemorative plaque.....

After lunch, we went back to Lewis's and took photos; it was so sad to see how dilapidated the once-proud store had become.

We saw Jacob Epstein's statue standing proud (in more ways than one!) above the building's main entrance; officially named "Resurgent," it was unveiled to celebrate Lewis's centenary. It is known to the locals as "Dicky Lewis."

Apart from all the excitement of visiting Liverpool, during Uncle John's stay we also had more visits into London; we went to Greenwich, and photographed Uncle John with "one foot in the east and one foot in the west:"

We went for a flight on the London Eye:

And we drove to Portsmouth for the day, went on board HMS Victory, HMS Warrior, and saw The Mary Rose:

Uncle John on board Nelson's flagship

A glorious day in Portsmouth - note my parasol!
Proving to Uncle John that England is not as cold as he may remember!

Although it was lovely to go out and about with Uncle John, and he was very happy with all the activities we did, I think possibly the best part of his holiday was being able to just sit and be with us; read the paper and do the crossword and the number puzzle pages; and have the cats love him, and wait for him to pick up the brush for a grooming session.

He introduced the cats to the lint roller - gently passing the sticky sheets over their fur, the roller picked up all the loose hair and fluff. Blackie especially could never get enough of this treatment:he could hear the covering wrapper being peeled off, from a hundred paces, and weaved around Uncle John's feet until it was ready for use. "Only 10 sheets used so far? Keep going!" he seemed to say.

Uncle John never failed to remark on how good my cooking was; whilst he was with us, again he "filled out," and looked really well. When he first arrived, he looked quite small and tired, but after a few days with us - and on my good food - he somehow blossomed, and looked years younger.

He and Mum got on reasonably well, too - Uncle John understood more clearly the problems we had with her moods, and did not provoke her, or disagree with her.  That still didn't stop Mum, right at the end of Uncle John's stay, from picking a quarrel with him! He didn't rise to it; he kept calm, and tried to change the subject, but in her state of mind, she was not to be diverted.

She stormed out of the dining room, declaring she "...would never speak to him, ever again!" and slammed the door behind her.

As we were getting ready to drive Uncle John back to Heathrow, Mum would not come out to say Goodbye to him, which made us very sad. We tried very hard to persuade her to change her mind, but she was adamant; she would not see him off.

Uncle John was philosophical. "She can't help it," he said. We were left hoping there would be another occasion when Uncle John would be back with us in England again, and Mum would be in a different frame of mind.

Happily, there was; of which more later.

Uncle John Pays Us Another Visit

Uncle John Pays Us Another Visit

I love keeping "proper" photograph albums - those peculiar old-fashioned books with beautiful creamy heavy quality paper, with glassine interleaves - and I also have special books for any interviews and stories about our family that have been published in various newspapers.

I was looking through some press cuttings albums this week; it was so good to remember when Uncle John came over to England and stay with us during the summer, and the great times we had.

His first visit, in 2009, was such a treat; fearing he might outstay his welcome, he only stayed for a month, but he soon realised it was really too short a time to make a long flight worthwhile. He also knew how very welcome he was and, apart from Mum having a few "funny turns," we all got on very well, so it was great news when he decided to pay us another visit in 2010.

This time, he came for about six weeks - still not long enough! but heading in the right direction.

The pattern for this visit followed along the same lines as his earlier stay with us, with shopping, jaunts into London for meals at Garfunkels, and another Tea at the Ritz. We also saw a couple of shows; Uncle John had never seen The Mousetrap - neither had we! - and was keen to go, so I got tickets, and we all had an entertaining evening, becoming part of an Agatha Christie conspiracy: "Don't ever tell anyone the whodunit!"

Al, Mum and me, Wendy and Uncle John
Enjoying another Tea at the Ritz

Uncle John relaxing at home with us

Wendy and I thought Uncle John would also like a trip back to Liverpool, and he jumped at the chance to revisit all the places from his childhood - the street where he was born, and the area he grew up in. I also got in touch with the Liverpool Echo; the editorial staff were keen to meet him, and  interview him about his childhood, and hear his views on how the city had changed over the years.

In the event, Uncle John had not one, but two trips up north!

To start with, it was arranged that Wendy would drive Uncle John to Liverpool; as we all know, Wendy loves driving, and needs no second bidding to embark on a car journey; I am not so keen! I got in touch with William Leece from The Liverpool Echo, to make a date and time for them all to meet up after lunch.

On the day, Wendy and Uncle John set off at a very early hour, but it was one of those days when everything conspired against them for an easy run. There were road works, diversions, heavy traffic and, whatever decision Wendy took to try to find a way around each problem, it merely led to another delay; in the end, they did not arrive in Liverpool until very late that afternoon. Throughout the journey, they had kept in touch with William Leece, but when it became clear they would arrive too late for them to meet, everyone had to admit defeat and accept it wouldn't be possible for Uncle John to be interviewed - at least, not on this visit.

Their stay was still very enjoyable and a real nostalgia trip for Uncle John.  Wendy took him to all the places he knew - 76, Breck Road, where Mum was born on 28 October 1919, and 11 Acheson Road, where he was born exactly three and a half years later, on 28 April 1923. He remembered all the areas from his childhood, Tuebrook, Allerton and Woollton. Uncle John's Grandfather and stepmother lived at 67 Purley Grove, and the house still carries a plaque with the name "Ulverston" on it  - the town where my great-grandfather was born.

Uncle John was born at No 11, Acheson Road

"Ulverston," the house in Purley Grove where my great-grandfather and his wife lived 

The trip also brought back some very sad memories for Uncle John. His brother Austin died in February, 1938, in London. He was only 20, and when his body was brought back to Liverpool, my grandfather was distraught. Their house was called "Sunnyside," and my grandfather immediately painted over the name; it was no longer appropriate for them to live in a house with that name.  At the funeral, Austin's girlfriend paid tribute to a lovely young man, "The most generous boy I ever met."  Uncle John and Wendy visited Kirkdale Cemetery and found the family grave, where his mother - my Grandma - is buried with her eldest son, Austin, and her husband, my grandfather, John Woods.

My grandfather died in 1943 - in an accident - and my grandma often wondered, had he known he would live for only another 5 years, if it would have helped him in his grief. As it was, she had to contend with the loss of her son and husband, and the resulting hardship of having very little money to live on.

Wendy and Uncle John went down to the docks, which had changed out of all recognition since Uncle John was last in Liverpool, but the Liver Building was still there, and the birds still keep watch over the city. Uncle John was very impressed by Wendy's driving, taking him to all the places of interest, and they enjoyed exploring his old haunts.

It was an all too brief visit, and whilst they were away, I kept in touch with William Leece, the reporter from the Liverpool Echo and he was still very keen to meet Uncle John. The minute Uncle John and Wendy got home, I asked him, "Would you like a second trip up north - with me, by train?!"

"Oh, yes, I would!" Uncle John's answer was firm.

Wendy was not entirely surprised I was going to book train tickets, because she knows I am never keen to volunteer for a long drive, but to this day, she still thinks I should have given it a go!

Uncle John was back home with us for just 48 hours, and then we were ready to set off up north again: this time from Euston to Liverpool Lime Street Station.

Mum Proves She Can Still Remember Things

Mum Proves She Can Still Remember Things

Mum can go off on a tangent. Sometimes she talks about people and occasions and, because we usually know the background to what and to whom she is referring, we can work out where she is in her mind.

I know carers are trained to agree with what clients say,  even if it is incorrect, but I have a different perspective, especially relating to someone like Mum. Because we know her so well, my belief is that she should be guided gently back to what is true.

Sometimes, Mum says, "Where's my mother?" and I do not see the point of saying, "Oh, she's out shopping." Some long time ago, I heard a carer saying this to Mum; Mum got a bit agitated, and said, "No, she isn't - she can't be.....!" so it was obvious that reply was not going to satisfy her. I remember stepping in and explaining that Grandma had died in 1985, and that she was buried in Liverpool. Mum asked a few more questions about what had happened to her mother, and when I told her how Grandma had had a fall and broken her hip, Mum said, "Oh, and is that what killed her?"

"Yes," I said, "that contributed to it."

That satisfied Mum, and was the end of the matter, but it proved to me that, somewhere in Mum's head, are true memories of things that happened in the past, and it is better to help her remember accurately, rather than just fobbing her off with banal, untrue assurances.

Yesterday evening was a case in point. Mum was really "on the ball," and talking animatedly about her family, and when they lived in Liverpool.

"Yes," she said, "it was very sad. My elder brother - his name was Austin - he got pneumonia. He was only twenty when he died."

The carers made very sympathetic responses, and I looked in and added, "Mum is absolutely spot on. That is exactly what happened!"

Mum then carried on talking about her parents, and how her father had died, five years later, and was buried in Liverpool, with his son.

After that, she went on to happier themes, and chatted merrily away about her younger brother, John - and was very much in elder sister mode.

"John is 3 years younger than I am, " said Mum, "and he's 95 now. He lives in Brisbane, and he's looking for a wife!"

(And so he is - or at least, since he was widowed 15 years ago, he would love to find a nice lady companion, with whom he can go out for lunch, and enjoy sensible conversation once or twice a week!)

"How old are you?" asked one of the carers.

"I'm 98!" said Mum.

I think that exchange may prove my point that, at least in Mum's case, clear memories can come to the fore, and if on some days she is confused, honesty is the best policy.

A Carer Returns And See A Change

A Carer Returns And Sees A Change

We have lovely carers for Mum, who take the time and trouble to get to know her, and her ways, and we always miss anyone who decides to take a break, or have a change of career. 

One carer, who last saw Mum at about Christmas time last year - 9 months ago now - recently returned to us, and she was very pleased to see Mum still going strong. 

However, because we are with Mum all the time, and although we also know the past year has seen Mum get weaker in her legs, we tend not to notice exactly how quickly or slowly these changes take place. We could see this carer was a bit shocked to find Mum was no longer able to support herself anymore, and - even with help from us - unable to get off the bed and transfer to the chair or the glider.

We realise that because Mum is now hoisted at every visit, her strength has obviously declined - a clear case of "What you don't use, you lose."  We understood completely why the decision was taken to hoist Mum - Mum's fluctuating ability to understand directions, and her penchant for suddenly trying to collapse in a heap in mid-transfer, meant that without warning, her whole weight could be placed on whoever was standing behind her, trying to support her whilst she tried to do the "twiddle round" manoeuvre.

This was not a safe situation for anyone. The carers could end up with a strained back, or worse, and there was also the concern that if she could not be held up, Mum could end up on the floor, and that was a scenario that had to be avoided.

Over the months, we try to look for all the positives: yes, she may have to be hoisted, but at least she can be placed on the glider, and wheeled into the bathroom, where she can still wash her hands under running water from the bath taps. She is not just looking at the same four walls of her bedroom. She can also be hoisted into her wheelchair, for trips out of the house, and a nice drive in a wheelchair accessible taxi into London, for Tea at the Ritz. The next one has already  been booked!

I Escape For A Couple Of Days!

I Escape For A Couple Of Days!

I never expected to be able to go away on holiday this year. It's always been a bit difficult to get away, but in the past it was certainly easier to organise a weekend off, as Mum was much stronger, and able to get in and out of bed herself, and sit in the chair/glider/wheelchair; with the carers visiting four times a day, one member of the family could manage to deal with all the other aspects of caring for Mum.

Now that Mum is hoisted at all times, it isn't that simple and, of course, her ability to understand and follow what needs to be done can be a bit variable!

It was a terrific surprise when Wendy announced she had organised everything - including Al being available to spend two days with his Great Grandma, which meant there would be two members of the family at home with Mum. I could relax!

Last week, we flew from City Airport to Frankfurt; Wendy, always competent driving on either side of the road, hired a car, and we were soon heading off to visit dear friends.

We also went shopping - C&A is still thriving in Germany, and we had a request for jeans and tops from Al; Wendy knows exactly what he likes, and found clothes to fit the bill.

Then there is Globus, a large supermarket, with groceries on the ground floor, and clothing, shoes, stationery, make up and toiletries on the upper floor - just like Tesco and Sainsbury's, but really rather better. It was lovely and warm in the store - I think gas and electricity is probably cheaper in Germany, and they can afford to keep the shop warm and toasty!

Because the October Fest is drawing near, Globus also had a wonderful array of dirndls on display. I love dressing up and wearing Tracht, so, with Wendy's encouragement, I tried one on. It fitted perfectly, and it's now back home with me, waiting for an event when I can dress up for the occasion!

On the Sunday, we had time to drive to St Augustine, to visit a lovely family whom we hadn't seen for such a long time.

They are such good, dear people; they made us so welcome, and the morning we spent with them just flew by. Hildegard had made a delicious Black Forest cake for us, and as we talked and reminisced, the years since our last meeting just fell away and it felt as though it had only been a month or two ago since we last met up.

We all have wonderful memories, of attending the youngest son's wedding in a castle in Mandescheid - a marvellous venue, set up on a very high hill. The wedding had a mediaeval theme, with everyone asked to wear costumes that would have been appropriate to the era. I made dresses for Wendy, Mum and me, with long sweeping skirts and long pointed sleeves; the menfolk wore Knights of the Realm outfits and everyone entered into the spirit of a memorable day.

From the base of the hill, it took at least 300 paces to get to the first level, and more to reach the battlements and the towers. In places there were just smooth, worn stones, and you had to be very careful walking up, so that you did not slip. We were a bit concerned for Mum, as she was then nearly 85, and we wondered if she would manage to climb up so far, but she managed perfectly well - and so did I, even in high heels! All the guests made their way up to the courtyard where the marriage took place, and then everyone enjoyed a magnificent feast in the dining area of the castle, where traditional mediaeval food was served, including platters of fowl, and pork and fruits.

Afterwards, there was jousting and sword fights - Mum was in her element, taking everything in. It is something that she still remembers, and when we talk to our friends on the phone, Mum can recall so many things about that lovely day.

That's really what friendship is all about - being there for each other, and sharing experiences. We'll make sure we don't let such a long time elapse before arranging another visit, even if it is only a fleeting one!

Hildegard, Miriam, Alexandra and Wendy
A happy reunion at St Augustine