At moments of difficulty M often asks: ‘where’s my mum?’  We have been together for 23 years and I think M’s mum had passed many years before we met.  So what is happening here you might ask?  Fortunately, prior experience, once again, has come to my rescue.

Four years ago I watched my mother at the hospital bedside of my father as he lay dying over  a long couple of days and nights.  I had to break the news that my dad had passed, following a phone call from the hospital, as we had gone back to the family home to take some rest.  When we awoke in the morning I had to tell mum that dad had passed once again; as the sleeping tablets meant that my original chat had not really registered.  Just having to tell your mum that the centre of her world had passed is difficult enough but telling her twice takes the biscuit.  I would have told her a 100 times if necessary and that would have only been a down payment for the wonderful parents I have had.

After dad died mum found it difficult to cope on her own and has chosen to spend the remainder of her life in a Care Home.  She lives ‘away’ as they say up here so I used to phone her on most evenings.   A couple of years ago she asked me what she had done to upset my dad because he was not visiting her.

I have to break now as my wife is crying in bed probably for her mum: yet again.

Back now calming effective and M has dropped of to sleep.  The old foot massage and a bit of EFT tapping has done the trick, alongside topping up the supply of tea.  I always complete my tasks with ‘my pleasure’ to remind M of the Baltic Cruise we went on to celebrate her 70th.  I’m catching her up in February and I have already floated plans for mine.  Goodness me I’m rambling this morning so to continue my theme…

My response to my mum’s question was WRONG .  I told her dad had passed and it would be impossible for him to visit.  I probably committed the cardinal sin and said : DON’T YOU REMEMBER.  It took me while to grasp that  mum had vascular dementia and she couldn’t remember that dad had passed and reminding her was unhelpful.  I should have told what is referred to a ‘love lie’ or changed the subject as soon as I could.

So learning from my mistake my response this morning has been a little more informed.  When M asks about her mum I encourage her to talk about her: I use her name.   I also say as your mum is not here at the moment I can help you.  What would you have wanted your mum to do this morning ?  M still misses her mum and this scenario will be repeated: it is a cry for help.  Who else would you want when you can’t make sense of things, or find your underwear, when you wake up in the morning?