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Count the sunny hours

Post 1

You can call me TC

Mache es wie die Sonnenuhr - zähle die schönen Stunden nur

Measure time like a sundial - only count the sunny hours.

My mother certainly does this. Last Wednesday I phoned her in the evening, as I regularly do, and she mentioned (at least twice) that she had her usual Thursday hairdresser's appointment the next morning, and she must remember to get up and catch the bus at 9 am.

So on Thursday I asked if she'd remembered to go into town that morning. She was a bit vague with the answer, replying once that she had been, then another time that she hadn't. She mentioned that some neighbours had been in - "She's much younger than me, but her hands are terrible, I'm lucky with my hands" - people, apparently, whom I would not know. Also the chappie two doors down had been in, and my sister ("What? In the middle of the week? Did she bring anything with her? - "No, I don't think she did") All these comments were a little strange, but people do drop in on her frequently to check she's OK, and apart from the neighbours I didn't know, I wasn't worried.

On hanging up, I noticed I'd had a text earlier from my sister - "She had a little incident today - call me later".

So I called my sister only to find out that our Mum had gone down to catch the bus as she often does on a Thursday at 9, but the bus didn't come. She waited a little longer, but then was rather weakened by the heat, presumably, and sat down. On the grass, or the pavement, wherever she was.

These neighbours, who really were people I didn't know, had passed her and seen her and taken her under their wings, taken her home (presumably) and got her a glass of water, then rang my sister (there are various notes around the place with her number, and the number is programmed into the phone). At some point during the excitement, the chappie next door appeared- perhaps he had been called, too, his number is on display as nearest neighbour.

Our mother with her 96 years is incredibly resilient and suffered no ill effects - and she hadn't remembered any of this when I spoke to her that evening. She "forgets" to take her blood pressure tablets, and was probably a little dehydrated from standing in the sun, both of which may have been the cause of her little black-out, but otherwise no harm was done.

She just remembered having a load of visitors that morning!

PS - The next-door-neighbour felt very guilty because he was the one who reminded her that she should have an appontment at the hairdresser's. It just happened that she didn't actually because she has one this morning (Monday) for a perm, so the wash and set that she normally has on Thursdays was not planned at all.


Count the sunny hours

Post 2

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

It's okay to miss an appointment when there wasn't one anyway. smiley - ok


Count the sunny hours

Post 3

KB

She sounds like she's made of stern stuff! smiley - ok I hope she's got over the episode well.

My mother's been in the wars again, too. She's just going to be getting out of hospital tonight, fingers crossed!


Count the sunny hours

Post 4

You can call me TC

With you there, KB.


Count the sunny hours

Post 5

Recumbentman

A tough bunch, our elders.

We are the older generation now.

Ah well, growing old is what happens if you're lucky. smiley - cheerup


Count the sunny hours

Post 6

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

My father and his brother are well into their nineties. We arrange for them to get together every so often, and when they do, some nap time has to be scheduled for my uncle after his long car ride.


Count the sunny hours

Post 7

You can call me TC

My sister just rang to say that our favourite cousin died last Friday. At the weekend, mother had said that she had spoken to his wife, everything was as usual. That the death of someone who was as important to us as that didn't sink in to her consciousness does seem to bode ill.

Heaven knows what she'll start forgetting now.


Count the sunny hours

Post 8

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycPoxZ1NPBY


Count the sunny hours

Post 9

You can call me TC

A few days ago, it had finally sunk in and she asked me if I'd heard about my cousin's death.

My sister took the day off work on Wednesday and they went to the funeral (a 2 1/2 hour drive, including part of the M25).

According to my mother, all went smoothly, then I rang my sister and heard how it really went! Again, she had only remembered the sunny bits!


Count the sunny hours

Post 10

Recumbentman

When my dad was in his seventies my brother persuaded him to write his memoirs. He didn't want to at first, but my brother told him to leave out everything he didn't particularly want to remember. To his surprise he had more happy memories than he expected, and he bucked up enormously writing it all down.

I might do the same myself in a while, though I have already put odd bits together as a blog over the years.


Count the sunny hours

Post 11

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

The sunny hours are what I live for.


Count the sunny hours

Post 12

You can call me TC

My mother wrote out her memories - or memoirs - (on her trusty typewriter) a while back and had a few copies made. She says she's glad she did it while her memory was still fully functioning (so are we).


Count the sunny hours

Post 13

You can call me TC

Because the cousin who died was from the Catholic side of the family, he and his siblings had a large number of children between them. My sister tells me that all but one of the numerous nieces and nephews came to the funeral.

His own sons (4 in all) each brought their sizeable broods - I wish I'd been there. It's probably the first time ever that they were all gathered together like that.


Count the sunny hours

Post 14

paulh, vaccinated against the Omigod Variant

In the years to come, that means many, many funerals for them.


Count the sunny hours

Post 15

You can call me TC

After chatting to my mother for 25 minutes on the phone yesterday, she mentioned - practically 'en passant' - that she'd been to the hairdresser's that morning - "Oh gosh, yes, it's Thursday again" I replied.

Then even more throw-away, she mentioned that there was a brass band playing outside when she came out.

Eventually, she got round to mentioning that this was in honour of the Queen who was in town for the morning. I wonder if her blasé attitude to this event was due to her forgetfulness smiley - senior, or because she was so used to royalty passing through when she worked for the Jockey Club.

Here's proof that HRH was there:

http://www.newmarketjournal.co.uk/news/town-turns-out-to-greet-the-queen-1-7661380

The pictures were quite touching, because there were groups of kids from my own junior school from back in 1962-65 - the uniform is still the same!


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