Another passing and another serious illness

On Thursday morning I got a call from Steep House Nursing Home to say that my aged uncle was experiencing breathing problems and refusing food. This had happened before and I asked the caller to let me know how he progressed. I did not phone the niece in Swansea who is his next of kin. I have been working extra hours at the charity shop again and have done four shifts this week. On Friday morning I put my mobile phone under the counter and around 10.30 I had a call from one of the carers or nurses. Bill had just died. I phoned Patricia, his niece, and she said that she would inform her family.  I sent my husband a text to tell him; he decided that he would go on the Walking for Health walk, which is what we do on most Friday mornings. He came to the charity shop later in the morning. 

It is hard to say what I feel. There is a degree of relief as well as the sadness that usually comes with a death. I looked after him, or at least was responsible for his welfare, for a little over nine years. I was fond of him but unreasonably felt resentful that he lived on after our darling daughter died.  There were problems in the early days at Steep House because of his officious, interfering God-bothering neighbours. Once his house was sold this changed and all was agreeable. I used to bring him chocolate, cream cakes and other goodies. When he finally took to his bed I went on bringing the goodies but last year he started refusing them. It was necessary to put a thickener in his drinks so that he could drink them without choking. 

Yesterday we went to the nursing home for the last time. We cleared out his possessions (not much; old, stained, worn-out clothes) and took them to the charity shop where I volunteer. Tomorrow we must see the funeral director, notify the bank and telephone the solicitor. I have decided on the music for his funeral. Perhaps one of his relatives could read a poem. 

I emailed my two surviving siblings to let them know of Bill's death. The older of the two lives in California and the news he sent was not good; he has melanoma, has had surgery and various treatments. He's now on immunotherapy. The younger one is well at present, despite problems with atrial fibrillation. His wife is not. She suffered kidney damage because of a mis-diagnosed skin rash. He does not know whether he can attend the funeral. Since he never once visited the old man while he was alive, there seems little point in coming to his funeral. I hope that some of the staff from Steep House will come, particularly Sandra Owen, who came to the home about the same time as Bill and was good to him. He liked her a lot. 

I miss my children. 

Post-Christmas Gloom

How long it is since I posted in this blog. I have been busy; since Robin Nettle was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, I have done some extra shifts in the charity shop. It has not been easy. Donna is not coping well and constantly nit-picks. She takes every opportunity to wrong-foot me and Ethel is finding the same. However, just before Christmas she did apologise and told Ethel just how difficult she is finding it all. 

We had an enjoyable weekend in Shanklin from December 1st to 3rd. My friend gave me a navy blue Laura Ashley overcoat, which I have had dry-cleaned and also had a small repair made. I wore it when we went to France for Christmas. We went out on Saturday and Sunday and saw Yarmouth and one or two other places. The Isle of Wight is a pleasant place. 

We went to the Probus Christmas lunch; very nice food, most of the company was good but we were seated on the same table as a very opinionated woman. Dan is going to be elected chairman at the end of this month and so we shall be on Table 1 for the next two years. I hope we can choose whom we sit with. We also had the Walking for Health lunch at the same pub; better company and the same meal. The following day we took off from Gatwick for our holiday. 

We spent Christmas at the flat in Vence. It was very pleasant and we were lucky with the weather again. It rained on Wednesday and Thursday after Christmas but was pleasant enough when we walked up to lunch at La Farigoule on Thursday December 28th. We only had one other meal out. We had come back from Vallauris, where we were chasing up some parts for our kitchen, and we parked at the Leclerc supermarket. We had quite a shopping list. Dan suggested that we have lunch out and I suggested the Restaurant les Baous, very nearby. We went and had a most enjoyable lunch. I could not finish  my pizza so asked for and was given a box to take it home in. 

The picture is of my father's youngest brother. There were four brothers, of which my father was the eldest. All three of his brothers predeceased him. One died in infancy. The youngest died in 1954 at the age of 36. The other died in Melbourne, Victoria, at the age of 65. It is the youngest whose picture heads this post. He had no children but was married to a very sweet woman who stayed part of our family after he died.  She married again and had three children, two sons (one of whom was stillborn) and a daughter. Her second husband was absorbed into our family and made a speech at our wedding. Since my mother died Ruby has continued as my friend and confidante. Lately I have noticed that she is getting deaf. Today we took her out to lunch. On our way to collect her we stopped at my youngest brother's house to drop off some watercolours that my late aunt wanted him to have. He said that he had spoken to her on the phone and she was "hard work". Yes; it is true that there is a degree of confusion. I think that he is exaggerating but the problem is there. I was planning to get in touch with my eldest brother's first wife with a view of taking Ruby to see her. Ruby is only four years older than Gaye and they used to be good friends. When I mentioned this and Ruby said "Which one is that?" I realised that I must abandon that idea. Gaye has multiple sclerosis and is very frail. Perhaps she, too, is slipping into dementia. What a cruel condition that is. 

Tomorrow is the first day back in the charity shop for me. I am not looking forward to it but needs must. I do not feel that I can leave while Judith is struggling with her husband's ill health. She was very kind to me when Katy died.  In the evening we are going to see some friends as it is the husband's birthday. Despite my resolution about presents Dan has bought him a bottle of Armagnac for his birthday. His wife's birthday is next month. It still rankles that I am not worth a present; a share in someone else's second-hand kitsch or nothing at all is good enough for me. I shall rise above it. 

My old uncle lives on, although one can hardly call it living. I have asked the manager of the home to let me know at any hour of the day or night if he dies. The next hurdle will be his funeral; I have planned a cremation (his wish) and a simple service in the chapel where my daughter's service was held. We shall see. 

A Precious Picture Rediscovered

When our beloved daughter died it was comforting to have pictures of her on display.  The saddest thing was that I could not find her baby book, with her new-born picture in. I asked my husband's sisters to search the house where their father lived but nothing could be found. Today my husband was sorting out some old pictures that were in a box that used to be under a chair in our bedroom. Some of these came from my late aunt's house (the wife of the man for whom I took responsibility). She had kept the copy I sent her when our baby was born. It has been scanned and is now on the little marble table with the other pictures. 

It is some time since I have updated this blog. We have been to France, where we had our kitchen renovated, returned from there and taken up our usual life. Dan has been playing petanque and bridge and I have been doing extra hours at the charity shop. Last Thursday we celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary. We decided to go out for lunch rather than dinner as Dan had the AGM of the bridge club in the evening. We lunched at the Turkish restaurant in Bakery Lane. We enjoyed our meal; the food and service were excellent. We forgot that we had theatre tickets for the week before last and have decided to put all our appointments in our Outlook calendars. 

I enjoyed the last Probus meeting. The speaker was our chair person's boss at one time. He is a very important government archivist and he was very interesting. At the end we were each given a handout, photocopies of prints of Domesday book pages and a few other things, including the table of heights and weights to calculate the drop for judicial hanging. The next meeting is not until the very end of the month. One more meeting and then it will be the Christmas lunch. 

We have visited the old man twice since our return from Vence. The first time he managed a little chocolate. On Saturday he did not seem to be responding at all. Yet still he lives on. I wonder how many people will come to his funeral when he finally dies. I have planned the funeral, although I do not think that his family will like what I have planned. I think that his niece wants hymns and prayers. There is no point in doing this; he had no religious faith when he was cogent. I want my aunt to be remembered as her funeral was such a depressing affair. My youngest brother's wife has been very ill with kidney problems, supposedly caused by medical negligence in diagnosing a skin rash. I doubt that he will attend. Perhaps my niece will come, as she was not able to get to her great-aunt's funeral because of the weather.

We walked on both Fridays and are glad to be back in the routine. We are considering joining a Tuesday morning walk at the Alice Holt Forest. Dan will still be able to play petanque in the afternoon and I shall be able to visit the nursing home. 

I shall write about our kitchen renovation in my next post. 

Planning a funeral

Well, my old uncle did not die. On Saturday we visited him and he was fairly alert and took some chocolate. He allowed the carer to give him some tea. I phoned his niece in Swansea and reported upon his improved health. Or has it improved? He is still very unwell and very frail. 

I have decided that I shall pay in advance for his funeral and plan it now. I discussed it with Patricia and she agreed. As the old man's attorney I have the legal right to do this, but courtesy costs nothing and she is his next of kin. She lost her husband in 2009, very suddenly; it was a stroke and Brien died the same day.  He would have been the very person to write and read the tribute to his uncle-in-law. I truly wonder if many people will come to the funeral. 

Last Friday two people I used to know at school came to visit. They last visited in 2003, just after we had moved into our flat. We had a very pleasant meal at the local ASK Italian restaurant. I quite enjoyed it and was glad that after all I had not put them off. We had walked in the morning but did not stay long after; just a quick cup of coffee.  

My nerves are tired. I did go to our friends' barbecue on Sunday. I was planning to stay home but my husband persuaded me. The food was, as always, delicious.  The company was pleasant, although we were left to introduce ourselves to a couple we had not met before. I drank a fair amount of Prosecco and ate cake and cream. We got a lift home. It was the charity shop on Monday and a man swore at me over the price of a pair of shoes. It seems that after I left a bowler hat was stolen.  Stealing from a charity shop somehow seems worse than stealing from any other shop. 

This Sunday a walk is planned with those same friends. It is proposed to walk from Petersfield to Winchester and stay the night at the Wykeham Arms. I do not know if I can do this. I have been suffering from chest pains and breathlessness.  My blood pressure was fine at my recent medical examination, so there cannot be much wrong. I have made an appointment with the doctor for September 4th. 

Tomorrow we shall walk in the morning. I am looking forward to that. It will be a little practice for the trek on Sunday. It is twenty-three miles to Winchester. I am going to take the iPod and listen to the latest Val McDermid novel. There will be five of us walking and I do not get included in on their conversations.  Listening to the book will make the walk more bearable. 

I must write a note to my aged aunt. We have not seen her since my father-in-law's funeral, when we collected her and took her to the church, afterwards taking her home again.  When we come back from Vence we shall collect her and take her out to lunch. 

Something good is that the little marble and cast iron table that used to be in the Vence kitchen is now in the living room. The Ikea vase that I paid £1 for in the charity shop is full of irises today.  Many silver-framed photos of our daughter are on the table, together with a candle lamp I brought back from Vence. The flat is so pleasant now.