Potholes lie in wait
laying traps to sabotage
“take something ephemeral and non-digital and bring it to your blog for all of us to enjoy and reflect on. “
I wrote this haiku as a portrait of my mum but as I read it through I realise that is is also a portrait of my grandma.
In the last few months my father has become much frailer. He can no longer live in his own home. It is becoming harder and harder to see the vibrant, intelligent, charming man I have known all my life. He has had some amazing adventures, did his duty with bravery and dignity, made sacrifices and, of course, like everyone else made mistakes. Sadly, the people he meets now only see the faintest shadow of that man.
For Chèvrefeuille and his family.
Earlier this week, my frail, elderly dad rang me and all I could hear was heavy breathing and there was no response to my voice. I immediately thought he’d had another stroke. I rang back before ringing the ambulance and starting the three and a half hour journey to see him. When he answered he sounded normal and surprised to hear me. He’d pressed the wrong speed dial button and had put the phone down when he realised. What a relief!