Early this month, we thought we had closed the door on her independence. Now, sleeping at
night in a small room with only a scattering of familiar things; eating meals in a roomful of
quiet individuals except for the one who repeatedly shouts “nurse!”; spending her days in a
day room, waiting for a visit, hoping for the chance to go out.
And so there she is one day, a week later, in the day room, coat on, expectant, pleased to see
me. And out we go, to a café, tea and an empire biscuit. And then, as we walk round the
village to stretch our legs and admire the flowers, she puts her hand in her pocket, and,
finding a kit-kat, takes it out and eats it. And I grin with relief, and catch the eye of a
passer-by who has seen, and who grins back. Independence is not gone - we are not that
powerful. Hallelujah.
night in a small room with only a scattering of familiar things; eating meals in a roomful of
quiet individuals except for the one who repeatedly shouts “nurse!”; spending her days in a
day room, waiting for a visit, hoping for the chance to go out.
And so there she is one day, a week later, in the day room, coat on, expectant, pleased to see
me. And out we go, to a café, tea and an empire biscuit. And then, as we walk round the
village to stretch our legs and admire the flowers, she puts her hand in her pocket, and,
finding a kit-kat, takes it out and eats it. And I grin with relief, and catch the eye of a
passer-by who has seen, and who grins back. Independence is not gone - we are not that
powerful. Hallelujah.
