Let's Talk

I have a work motto which many people know about. “Do one thing each day that may lead to work and then get on with living your life”. Good advice given to me by a tutor at drama school and it has stood me in good stead.

I have one other thing I do every day. 10pm each evening. The news begins its roll call of calamity but only one thing concerns me. Time to head into our office and pick up the phone to Mum.

She’s about to be 95, lives in a care home in Rotherham and her grip on reality can change from day to day. At it’s worst she may have resisted the staff’s efforts to get her up and spent the day in bed. These are her dark days. Days when she has had enough of the world. “I just want to go to sleep” she says. She means die. Part of the roleplay work I have done has been concerned with end of life conversations and saying the D word is incredibly important. I’ve broached it with her.

“When you say you just want to go to sleep, do you mean you want to die?

“Yes” she replies with no hint of hesitation.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about” I tell her. “Just relax and close your eyes and let go.”

“I’m trying” she tells me. “I’m trying, but it’s just not bloody working”

She has threatened me on several occasions that she will still be here for the telegram. On many days I believe her. Although she may have a need to ask the same question several times, and our evening conversations can be more circuitous than a grand prix, she provides a wit of almost Bennettian proportions.

I’m lucky enough to travel a great deal and she tries to keep up with where I am calling her from. It’s not always successful. Last week was a rare occurence when I had a full week at home. I call her on the Monday evening. A combination of a bad mobile line and recalcitrance on the part of one of her hearing aids make the conversation hard work. We do the usual ‘how are you’s’ and ‘how was your day’ when suddenly, from left field, comes “Do you like Barcelona then?”

"I'm not in Barcelona Mum. I'm at home”.

 "What you doing in Thailand then?”

“ I’m at home” I repeat, the volume of my voice increasing just a tad.

“You’re where?” she says determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I'm at home".

There is a pause. She's obviously considering the location.

"You been to Portugal before haven't you?"

I'm not sure whether it's better to continue to try and correct her , or to let her believe that's I’m somewhere basking in the Algarve. After all tomorrow night will be an entirely new conversation. There will probably be no memory of tonight's and the most important thing is that we are still talking. We are still having a conversation of sorts.

It's quite simply the best way to keep relationships going. Yes, it’s easy to email or to text. But the power of a chat cannot be beaten. In olden times I would often disappear into a hot bath of an evening with a large glass of white wine and the telephone. These days I’ve given up the wine, but I’d like to think I haven’t given up the phone.

So next time you’re thinking of dropping me an email catch up, why not just give me a call instead? And if you get my voicemail, I may be in Portugal.