She trod the lonely path homewards, as the day drew to a dismal close. Heavy clouds threatened a downpour, and she remained determined to beat the rain home. Weary from shopping, she picked up her pace and as the first drops fell onto her silvery hair, she turned the key in the door. She dropped her shopping bags onto the flagstone floor, and examined the fresh red welts left by the plastic handles, as she flicked on the kettle.
The warm fluid gently revived her parched throat, as she stared at the mysterious bags which lay strewn across the kitchen floor. The house was silent, except for the ticking of the clock which belonged to her grandmother. Where was everyone? Shouldn’t they be home by now? Her stomach churned, and she swallowed her tears. Perhaps something had happened to them. She sighed and picked up the bags from the floor, lining up the contents on the work-top.
The clock chimed 6 times, as she paced the hallway. Something was amiss, but she couldn’t pinpoint what, as she chewed her fingernail and fought to access some long-forgotten information. She shook her head and spun around into the dining room, where the table was laid, but still empty of family. A robin caught her eye from the large window, which looked out onto a beautiful garden. It preened and splashed in the birdbath, and she was fascinated.
The slam of the cat flap brought her back inside. “At least you want some dinner, come on then.” The tortoise shell cat nuzzled her legs, as she forked cat food into a small metal bowl. The tiny bell on his collar jingled as he moved, and she laughed at the joyful sound, placing the bowl on the mat next to his water.
She pursed her lips on noticing a mysterious flashing light, and a yellow note next to it: PRESS ME! She pushed the button:
“You have one new message…Hey Mum! Hope you’ve had a good day. Remember that Dad is at work this evening and won’t be back until eight. I will visit you tomorrow, on my day off. If you need anything, call Maggie and the number is next to this machine.”
Her eyes flicked to the large sheet with bold writing. Suddenly an important word sprung into her mind. She flew out of the kitchen and up the stairs, as her wobbly legs threatened to buckle. She paused outside her daughters’ bedroom and gasped on entering. There were no posters of heartthrobs on their wall, no dirty clothes on the floor, or mouldy cups lingering. Instead, was a clean and tidy, beige guest room.
She lifted a framed photograph from the dressing table and touched the three faces with her fingertip. Two beautiful young women were adorned with caps and gowns, and the smiling lady in between, seemed vaguely familiar. She glanced sideways where a mirror confirmed that that woman was her. The word she had remembered, was dementia. She slumped onto the bed and sobbed.
As she wiped her nose with a tissue from a box close by, she realised it must be time for dinner, and headed downstairs. The table was already set for four, and she should be getting their meal cooked, they would be home any minute with rumbling tummies. She drifted over to the large window where the garden was empty. The rain was busy washing the world clean as she wondered when her family would be home for dinner.
This is another piece I found from a while ago. Watching my mother-in-law disappear, took many years, and it made me think about how confusing life must have seemed to her. She is very much missed and was a gentle and kind woman.
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