The Reluctant Detectorist

Mother is asleep on her bed, a biscuit clenched in her right hand. Her right hand lies on her heart. She looks like an effigy on a tomb gently holding an important family relic, which she hopes will come with her into the future. ‘Once she’s got hold of a Hob Knob, she won’t letContinue reading “The Reluctant Detectorist”

Mother the matricide

Mother and I are answering a questionnaire called ‘Getting to Know Me’. It’s designed to give the staff at her new nursing home an insight into her history and her likes and dislikes. She moves shortly.  The questionnaire is a multiple-choice version of the BBC TV series ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’. Most ofContinue reading “Mother the matricide”

Moonpig, Mother and me during lockdown

It’s five months since Mother got sucked into a demented game of ping pong between us, hospital and her nursing home. Four falls, four visits. Still fighting. In that time, she’s fractured her hip, caught Covid and won the Cheeriest Personality of the Year at the local gerontology department’s Christmas awards after charming them duringContinue reading “Moonpig, Mother and me during lockdown”