A Visit Home

And so, as predicted, things have got much busier. Two trips to Amsterdam in the last 8 days, lots of activity at the Actors Centre, and bookings on the corporate front now stretching through until mid-November.

All rather good………… for the bank manager. It's been a lean summer. Amidst all this activity I'm still trying to pack in regular visits up to see Mum. This week I was able to tie in a meeting in Sheffield with a visit to see her for the day on Tuesday.

I arrived a little earlier than I normally do on my daily trips and she was still having lunch. I stuck my head round the dining room door and momentarily my heart stopped. All I could see were little old ladies sitting having lunch. I couldn't pick out Mum.  When she first arrived at Rotherwood  on a dark cold unforgiving February Friday afternoon, even though she wasn't at her best she looked different from all the existing residents. I remember walking away from home that afternoon thinking  “Have I done the right thing? She doesn't seem to be as bad as the rest of them".

 That's why for the few seconds on Tuesday lunchtime where she was indistinguishable from the other residents, my heart sank. Then I saw her. She's created herself a perfect niche in the home. A lot of the other residents look up to her. Margaret, the matron, tells me that all her dinner table will only have what she has for desert. “I want  what Florence is having" is the regular cry, so there's always a big demand for ice cream. 

While she finished her lunch I was asked to chat to an inspector who was doing an unannounced inspection of the home. A nice friendly lady called Dawn  asked me lots of questions about the place. How had we found it since Mum had been living here?  Did we know about the complaints procedure? Had we been given everything we wanted?

The great thing was that I was able to answer in the affirmative for everything. And saying it out loud to someone, telling them all the good things that happen in the last seven months was a real tonic.

 After  Mum had finished lunch it was time for our usual visit  to Rotherham. This is the big downside of my  day visits.  When people ask me where I come from, I have always got into the habit of saying “somewhere between Sheffield and Doncaster",  hoping that either of those places have more class than Rotherham. It would not be difficult. Rotherham is now just one big pound land, and on afternoon visits, limited by mums mobility, we do a short tour from the bus station to the bank to the supermarket to the cafe to the bus station.

It's more than enough. Rotherham seems peopled by people without a sense of purpose. As though they're spending time in Rotherham just to kill time as they have nothing else to do.

I remember watching the Paralympics recently and the commentator was describing why people qualified for that particular event. One swimmer was described as intellectually challenged. If that was the qualification criteria, then half of Rotherham should've been in the pool.

As we totter at a 91-year-old arthritic pace through the town, I just have to close my eyes.

Yet there are glimmers of great humanity even in hellholes such as  Rotherham. I left my reading glasses in the cafe, and returning later that afternoon on my way to the station, I stuck my head in to ask if they'd been found.

“ Here you are love" said the woman behind the counter handing me the spectacles back with a great deal more charm than she had shown when she handed me a cup of tea and a KitKat earlier in the afternoon.

And then on the short walk to the station  Rotherham kicked into normal  gear again  as 5 police cars descended on the County Pub by the station and I found myself in an episode of “Cop squad" while 2 people were wrestled to the ground.

 At the end what had been a long day  I walked up the hill  home and rang mum just to say that I got back safely.

Suddenly from left field she said  “You do know I think the world of  you, don't you?  I told all the others that after you'd gone."

 And I thought,  as I attributed the tears in my eyes to an hitherto undetected wind rushing down Sydenham Hill.  how nice it was of her to just take the time to tell me.

So do that today. Just take that tiny amount of time to tell the special person in your life just how much you think of them.

 It will do you both the world of good.