Yoghurt and juice. Mum, Alzheimer’s and me.

Not all my usual fare, but as many of my friends are now going through similar experiences, I thought this might touch a chord.

Pin Prick

Hannah lies flickering in the half light, much as she has done for the last two years. It isn’t as painful now but I rarely leave without having first had a good sob somewhere, just out of sight of the door, in case one of the carers comes in. She flickers on and off and fades in and out. Sometimes she might say a name of an old acquaintance or a friend or an old worry. Sometimes her foggy eyes alight on me and she says: “Oh darling, thank you” and then promptly falls asleep. I sit by her buzzing bed, with Classic FM playing in the background and read her stuff; bits from the Herts Mercury, lines of poetry, things that lie dotted about the house. I no longer expect a response and in its own way it’s rather peaceful watching her lying there – breathing in and out…

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