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Nothing is so sad as putting your mother into a nursing home.

10/11/2013

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It’s been approximately two months since my mother (100 years young), went to live at an Aged Centre. As you can imagine, it was a wrench leaving the house where she’s lived for over fifty years. Though she doesn’t complain, I can tell  she isn’t really happy there. It isn’t the fault of the centre,  quite simply she’d rather live independently. 


I wish she could, but her sight is all but gone, she’s unsteady on her feet and dementia has raised its ugly head. I guess Mum has had a good run. She is never sick and it is only in the last three years that her sight, hearing and fitness has deteriorated. The dementia only happened recently. However her confusion isn’t helped by being in a strange environment. She worries that she hasn’t got a key to her house.  I've explained that her house has been sold, but she keeps forgetting. 



Selling the house was necessary to pay the $350.000 bond required by the aged care facility.   Settlement is only a fortnight away. My sister and I had the bitter-sweet experience of going through all Mum’s stuff. So many memories.  Hours were spent reminiscing as we looked though old photograph albums. 


 Mum's treasure were shared among the family. Dad’s WW2 medals, in a leather collar box, were mailed to my brother in England. Collar boxes  date from a time when shirt collars were detachable.  My daughter, Emma is getting a set of five ebony elephants that she used to play with when she visited her nanna and the old Singer sewing machine.  The wall plates, a set of sailing ships, I've earmarked  for my sailor son. He’s due back from his latest voyage at Christmas so I’ll give them to him then. 


 The house is empty now. I went over to give it a final clean. So sad to think it will be bulldozed. This year's roses  are magnificent. I wish I knew Mum’s secret. Mine aren’t a patch on hers. I picked an enormous bunch. Even though she can’t admire their colour she can still enjoy their fragrance. 


 ON the plus side, I now see more of Mum  than I have for years. The aged care centre is very close to where I live. So far I haven’t missed a day. I don't know exactly how it happened, but somehow or other I’ve been wheedled into reading to a group of residents who love stories. I love stories too so I’m more than happy to read to them. 


 Busy as I’ve been getting Mum settled, I am happy to report that I’m writing again. I’m up to chapter 4 of “The Little Dog Laughed.” The story is pouring out of me, so with a bit of luck and a great deal of effort I should have hope another book out in 2014. 


‘Til my next update,
 Best wishes, 
 Ann Massey
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    Author

    ANN MASSEY, was born in 1945 and grew up in the harsh environment of a council estate in the industrial north of England. Brought up on stories of the bleak living  conditions in Lancashire before World War 11, her new book SALVATION JANE grapples with the emergence of the working poor in  Australia.  Ann lives in Perth , Western Australia.

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