You will recall that I put things on hold for a while because my poor old mother was in hospital. Well, in the end, she died. I had thought that this would just be another sojourn in hospital for her – one of many – but it proved to be more serious than that, and eventually she slipped away from us.
One of my lasting memories of my mother goes back – and this is perfectly true - to my very first day at school. I can still feel the sense of anxiety I had as school finished for the day, and I wasn't sure if anyone would be there to collect me. Imagine then, the overwhelming sense of relief and joy that I felt upon seeing her beaming face, with its famous toothy grin, waiting for me at the school gates. I knew at that very moment that I needn't have been worried – that she would never let me down; that she would always be there for me, no matter what happened.
But now she has left me, and I don't have a mummy anymore. The weekend when she became ill, I was due to go to London for a break. When I telephoned earlier in the week to apologize that I wouldn't be able to make my usual Saturday visit, she replied (as she always did in such circumstances): "Don't worry, Richard. We shall still be here next week." Well, I never made it to London, nor she to the next week, but that her final illness was so mercifully short is now some comfort to those of us she left behind. The staff of the Critical Care Unit at the City Hospital were all excellent, but in particular I'd like to pay a special tribute to nurses Vita and Yvette who both showed such compassion and such caring towards my mother, and to us all, and yet who both remained immaculately professional throughout. The Trust, the hospital, and the ward can all be proud of themselves and of these two exceptional young women.
In the end, the miracle that they and we had hoped for couldn't be delivered, but my mother's last days and hours were spent receiving such care and attention that when she died, she died with dignity and in comfort and peace.
However, the fact that we were able to hold on to her for longer than we'd been led to hope for, was a special joy to us all. Each extra year, each extra week, each extra day that she was to remain amongst us, was a delightful bonus. It is also a lasting pleasure that she was able to watch her seven grandchildren grow up, and to see each of them go out and make their own way in the world too. These bright and gifted young people were, I know, her very special treasures in life.
So, you are forever in our thoughts Mummy – and I hope that you will rest in peace.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
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2 comments:
I'm very touched by your post Richard. I'm sure that your tribute on Friday was lovely too. Thinking of you and yours at this sad time. xxx
Thanks, chuck. xxx
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