Oh Christmas Tree
This is the first year in 4 that we’ve been to my parents. Covid kept us away last year, OH beung a retail pixie account for the others.
Being home is bittersweet. My parents are in their twilight years. Christmasses yet to come, as a family unit, are likely to be counted in years not decades. But we are together now. And as I keep telling my increasingly frail father, it is important to live every moment.
Which for mum and I means finding ways to laugh. She’s Dad’s main carer. She’s 88.(He’s 89.) Both have frames to help them walk. S…L…O…W…L…Y. They make a lively maths problem. If Mum leaves the sitting room at 5.30 and Dad three minutes later, what’s the likelihood neither will get to the kitchen?
Our laughter started as a means to stop her crying. She doesn’t want to be a burden. She keeps apologising. The Sorry word is now banned. So she know says “S”. And dissolves into fits. Now, I’m not sure whether she’s saying sorry or the other S word😀
Bith parents are profoundly deaf. His hearing aids need checking. She needs to have a test. Covis (her spelling) has got in the way. It leads to much shouting, as one struggles to understand the other. Then Mum sees the funny side and yet again dissolves…
When you phone Mum, she doesn’t let Dad to get to the phone, you can tell she can’t hear you because halfway through the call, we have the ‘booster’ conversation.
“Shall i put the booster on?”
“Yes, Mum, put the booster on!”
(And repeat until the booster is on.)
We’ve started asking Mum should she put the booster on so she can hear Dad. It’s making her laugh. But it’ll only be for a few days and she’ll be doing it alone again until half term.
But while the lights on the tree twinkle and the tinsel glitters, i wont tgink about that. And yes, if you zoom in, you’ll see a dalek and a tardis.