MORNING SERIAL
I WENT to look for my jar of Vick’s Vaporub.
One Sunday Mum announced, “I’m going to do my space-walk now.” It was only her second voyage to the sitting room a few metres along the hall from her bedroom which she had dubbed her “kennel”. She was feeling confident and looking forward to it. She managed well with her wheelie-walker, step by careful step. I followed close behind with the wheelchair in case she fell backwards.
Into my head popped: “It’s time to leave the capsule if you dare.” David Bowie had died recently, Mum surviving him by fourteen years. He was young, really, and he’d seemed immortal.
I had feelings about his passing that I couldn’t form into language, even if I hadn’t been too tired to think.
Mum was hugely relieved that she no longer had to struggle on her own: coping, rather than living. The shingles seemed to be subsiding just a little. Each day she got out of bed, but not for long. Her clothes still hung on a rail – she hadn’t got dressed since the previous year. The time we spent sitting together was generally uplifting. She was relaxed, sweet and grateful.
I had never imagined sharing a home with my mum. The idea would have filled me with a depressing dread.
The image of a middle-aged woman living with her mother could have denoted some catastrophic failure on the part of the daughter. What sort of life could be blithely set aside in order to accommodate the full-time care of a parent? Certainly not a life of consequence or glamour.
My life had neither to any great degree. I considered this not only convenient, but advantageous. I was able to drop everything because I had come to a point where, partly by design, I had a certain amount of freedom. And, of course, I cared about my mum because she was my mum. I loved her.
Yes, I could step into the breach – happily. I had just left my café job in order to tie up ends, pack up and go away with David. We could postpone our trip by a couple of months if necessary.
> Scrabble in the Afternoon by Biddy Wells is published by Parthian at £8.99.
> www.parthianbooks.com