8th November 2011 Tuesday
‘You are always in the right place at the right time.’
This is true - living or dying - it’s thinking you could be somewhere else that makes it stressful.
Today I expected we’d move my father to his new home. When my sister and I arrive at the hospital this morning to pack him up the staff nurse says the doctor has seen him and he needs to stay in another twenty four hours. So we repair to the Boston Tea Party for flapjack and mint tea and re-jig the day.
Tonight in misty drizzle I drive up the M5 towards Taunton. Around Junction 25 I think I can smell smoke damage in the air from the accident on Saturday. Inside the Odeon cinema my sister and I wait for our friend - it’s our farewell evening to her. She doesn’t arrive. I call her. She thought it was tomorrow. Maybe there was a good reason she didn’t drive the M5 tonight.
Back home, while my husband is out making his clay creatures, I unwrap a new cake of birthday soap and soak in a scented bath with a glass of red wine. Definitely in the right place at the right time.
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