11.45am Friday. As I decide that now is a good moment to reflect Mr M arrives back from visiting his mother. She has dementia and now resides in a nursing home. My loving, funny, adorable, irritating, exasperating beloved mother-in-law left us a long time ago. What we have now is a stranger that continues to exist within her physical form. This stranger talks in scribble, strings of unconnected words mingled with the occasional chuckle or a saucy glance or sometimes a wagged finger and a stern look. I close my eyes and take a slow quiet breath.
"How's your mum?" I ask, but I really dread the answer. She doesn't walk anymore as her brain has forgotten her legs now. She eats like a bird and forgets to drink unless a straw is put to her mouth and you over ride the scribble and keep saying "drink this, drink this now Mam."
"She knew me today," Mr M replies, hanging his coat up and slipping off his shoes. "She lifted her hands the way she used to." He turns to me and the tears are welling into his eyes.
When ever she saw him she would lift her hands to his face and cup his cheeks in them "oh my baby," she would say and I would feel a stab of impatience that she was doing this to her grown-up son. Every time we visited she did this and even after she went into the home she couldn't remember his name but her hands would go to his face and you just knew that the scribble was meant to be "oh my baby" She hadn't done this for months. Not since before our anniversary in June so for her to remember was the final straw and my moment ended with tears from both of us
This is part of the Simply a moment that Alexa started and I love.