It was not a day for photography. Dull skies in London and driving rain on the walk from the station to Mother’s. She was in bed, a return of the problem with the sore on her sacrum. The carer told me she has been in bed for three days. I hope she is up soon or she will miss all the singing and festive jollity. She had a good appetite and ate her lunch. Afterwards she dozed. This is normal, but she kept dozing throughout the afternoon.
Once she woke properly and launched into a long monologue. I responded, appropriately it seemed as she was content with my answers. I read to her and her head nodded. When her eyes closed I stopped, but a visit from another resident woke her. I went back to reading, but choosing longer poems with steady rhythms that would allow her to listen and doze. It worked. She held my hand and squeezed it from time to time. When I started on The Listeners, she opened her eyes and smiled at me. Kissing her brow, I thought she was rather hot, but it was difficult to tell as the heating was up in the room. My guess is she is going down with a cold. I put on the CD of carols and Christmas music from the Chapel Royal that is part of her Christmas present and was rewarded with another smile.
Aunt is going to visit tomorrow and I shall email a senior member of staff and ask to be kept up to date with how she is.
The rain had stopped and my return walk to the station was dry with dramatic banks of clouds lit by the setting sun. The train on the branch line got in on time, and now I am heading back to Kings Cross then home and a quiet evening thinking about Mother.