Marianne Talbot with her mother After mum died I sat with her for about an hour. Then I brushed her hair, gently washed her face and took her wedding ring from her finger. My tears were falling freely. The two nurses who had shared the watch were wonderful, hugging me and assuring me mum was at peace.
Then the strange realisation that there was nothing more to be done. Feeling profoundly alone, I walked home.
My thoughts were everywhere. Snatches of mum's terrible last night jostled with memories of happy times. So many happy times. I remembered her whooping with joy when she graduated, her relish as she tucked into a huge knickerbocker glory, her triumph as she mastered the controls of a Vespa in Spain, her determination as she coaxed her car up an incredibly steep hill in the Lakes...
It was too early to ring people: on autopilot, I showered and breakfasted. Then I made the calls needed to send the news cascading down the generations. Such a huge family. So many people who loved mum.
Then back to meet the doctor who was to certify death. Morphine had been available. But the locum didn't know. When I'm able I shall make sure no-one else suffers like mum for a locum's want of information.
Again I sat with mum for a while. Many of the home's carers came to share their memories. It was moving for me to see how many people she'd touched. Marcus told me she had been singing along with him only days ago. Peter, tears streaming down his face, told me she'd make faces to make him laugh. Karen told me of her wanting to visit the seaside. We cried together and it comforted me.
Then I chose some photographs to put on the noticeboard: the home's customary tribute. I added the congratulations card that the Queen had sent to mum and dad on their diamond wedding anniversary, and an article on their elopement that mum had herself written for Saga, around the time of their diamond wedding. Tearfully I chose the clothes she would wear for her final journey.
Mum's dying on Maundy Thursday was a blessing. For a few days I was able to do nothing. There was nothing I could do. Even in the face of death everything closes for Easter.
But as Easter finished the wheels again started turning. The flowers, letters, cards and emails started to arrive. Again I was moved that mum touched so many. I wrote to all the powers that be and to all mum's old friends. Every now and again I rang someone I suddenly thought of who might not otherwise hear.
My siblings and I started to make arrangements for the funeral.