In Sidmouth on Monday.
Yesterday's tiny tranquility evaporated today.....can only feel a tide of tiredness washing up behind my eyes.
This morning the chiropodist says apart from a little corn on his little toe, Robin's feet are good and many would wish they had such feet as his.
The optician tightens up his new glasses which were slipping off his nose.
I put a large cheque into the bank to pay for next week.
While lovely cleaner shines the house, Robin drives off with lovely carer, and I sit in Jamie's with two lovely women celebrating early and late birthdays, relishing superfood salads and their dear company.
I make sure I'm back in time for next visitor - lovely MND supporter - but she is early - already there. Robin in bed, carer eating lunch and making cup of tea for visitor. We talk while Robin sleeps on and because she's so nice and I'm so tired I cry a little and she gives me a big hug. She says you must take of yourself but I've lost that art for the moment.
Robin wakes up, I dress him and feed him the lunch I left but he didn't eat, and she sits at the table with us and we chat about Brexit and PEG feeding and Robin chews and smiles.
When she leaves we drive north into farming country, looking for a spot with a view. We find this field of waving wheat and pull in to drink cartons of strawberry and banana fruit smoothies, instead of having tea and flapjack in a cafe somewhere.
Later I can't keep my eyes open watching Celebrity Masterchef.
But I wish I hadn't seen the pictures on the news of the white lorry in Nice hurtling down the promenade, on and on, the driver killing all those precious people as if they weren't flesh and blood and breath and bone like him...
No comments:
Post a Comment