Last week we celebrated Mum’s 92nd birthday! My two brothers and Penny and I took her out to lunch at a café, and then went back to her room for some birthday cake. Mum was bright and I know she felt loved.
When we got back to the rest home hospital I noticed one of the ladies looking incredibly sad. She often does, but I usually manage to cheer her up and get a smile. Not this time. I held her hand and rubbed her back but her sadness was painfully deep. When I asked her what the matter was, she said in a heartbroken voice, “I want my mum!” And a tear dropped onto the teddy that I’d just given her to cuddle. (Gosh, this sounds like one of those stories you read that seem to be half made up, dripping with sentiment. But I actually watched this one tear fall onto the teddy. It seemed laden with all her sadness and longing.)
I couldn’t stop my own tears as she turned her face away from me and wept for her mum. So sad. When I joined the others in Mum’s room they wondered what on earth was the matter with me. How blessed I am to still have my precious mum.
