We had to go back to the UK at short notice to care for Ali's mother who is deteriorating faster than expected... so now helping her through her last days... a carer comes in twice daily, one of us is called upon to assist turning mother on her side so that the carer can do what carers do, God bless them... unknown to us at the time one carer has a husband who has tested positive... Ali and I take turns reading to mother - they say hearing is the last sense to go... finally mother breaths her last and we also breath a sigh of relief - whatever your beliefs she is now in a better place, no more pain... and then the inevitable: first Ali then I contract the dreaded Covid... ten days of isolation (plus day zero, which makes eleven by my arithmetic) is a long time when you are not allowed off your property. At least we have a garden to walk around in circles, although to start with we do not feel like doing anything let alone walking. Must be hard for folk who live in a high-rise. But eventually the time passes and I am officially out of isolation at midnight tonight. Mind you, I'm not sure if I have the energy to avail of an instantly larger playground.
Tomorrow J, C and S arrive for the funeral later this week. We've decided to do the catering ourselves (this decision was made before we succumbed) so there's been much cake baking and more to come. Eventually the dust will settle and I suppose we'll go back home. But where is home?
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