Not Being There

4th August 2011 Thursday

I don’t want to ring my father too early in case he has gone back to bed. I leave it till 8.30am.

He says,

‘I just put my hand out to the phone to call you and you rang me.’

He can’t get the plastic eye drop contraption to work. It’s supposed to make it easier to get the drops in his eye. He says it’s empty. I know it’s not. I say use the other bottle, the second one. He says he can’t get the top off.

I say,

‘I’ll come over - give me forty five minutes.’

I’m not dressed yet - didn’t sleep well last night.

Driving to Honiton I try and think of who can help him with the eye drops. I’m not sure if it’s in the remit of the housekeeper - who would be perfect as she is kind and competent - and on the premises. But anyway she’s on holiday.

When I arrive I find his wonderful cleaner is there and she has told him how to work the eye drop contraption - ‘ tilt your head right back’ - and she has successfully unscrewed the top off the second tiny bottle.

She is the angel for today.

I ring him again later. He says all the liquid has leaked out of the eye drop bottle and he’s going to order some more from the pharmacy. I wonder what he did. I ring my sister and she says she will go in the morning and help him with the drops. But he is supposed to do it four times a day. Put one drop in at a time. The miniscule bottles are to last for four weeks.

It would take me one second to do it. But I’m not there. So I’m praying for an angel.