I have been feeling quite zen most of the day, despite the odd shooting pain through my foot, imagining Mother cocooned in her new room.
I tried to ‘phone. No answer. Over several hours I tried again. Still no answer.
Eventually I got through to someone who told me Mother was ‘fine’. English obviously wasn’t her first language, so I kept calm and began an interrogation. I didn’t get very far. ‘Yeah,’ she kept saying, ‘she’s fine.’
With that I had to be content.
Then I spoke to Aunt who visited today.
Mother was not ‘fine’. She was agitated and upset. She wanted the toilet. ‘We’ve just taken her,’ Aunt was told. “She wants it again,’ said Aunt.
“I didn’t like leaving her,’ Aunt told me tearfully.
Just about everything, no make that everything, I had been told, Aunt contradicted.
I don’t like this.