Marianne Talbot with her mother None of the residents of mum’s home is hot on memory. But they’re beginning to recognise me. And I am learning their names and habits.
There’s one lady, Jane*, who likes to hold hands. You’ll be standing talking and suddenly you find your hand in an iron grip. Once she’s got you there’s no escape until you can get a carer to slip her hand between yours and Jane’s so they can be prised apart.
Then there’s the cheerful black man, Tom*, who loves to flirt. He’s great fun. Mum loves to flirt too, so I have been trying to put them together. They flirt nicely for twenty seconds then lose interest. It’s a shame, I’m sure it would enhance both their lives to spend it flirting with each other.
Then there’s Sally*, with the wide smile, who spends her time marching up and down the corridors, and Ruth* who does the same.
Last time I visited mum I saw Ruth go up to another resident, an elderly lady asleep in her chair, smack her, and take her blanket! The poor old dear was startled awake, clutching her ear in panic. I shopped Ruth to the carers. They remonstrated. But I could see Ruth didn’t understand a word.
Some of the residents are much less advanced in their dementia than mum. They can almost hold a proper conversation. I wonder how they feel about being in the home? Others are distressingly young. One is in his late forties. Life really isn’t fair is it?
I often visit mum just as supper is being served so I can encourage her to eat. She really needs the encouragement: weight continues to fall off her and she is now painfully thin. Almost impossible to remember the lusty appetite she used to have.
The trouble with this regime is that I shall get fat. The best way to encourage mum to eat is to eat with her. But I never eat quite enough with mum to feel I’ve had supper. So at home I eat again. This must stop!
Visiting can be amazingly humbling. At the home everything goes at snail’s pace. There’s no point in rushing: no-one can move fast, no-one can understand if you speak quickly and it can take an hour to finish a meal. One has time, and plenty of opportunity, to reflect on the human condition.
Visiting mum doesn’t half focus my mind on the fact that life is for living now rather than later. It’s easy to forget this during daily life when everyone is rushing and there’s never enough time.
But not if every night you get a vivid reminder of the way you might end up.
*Residents' names have been changed