Suzanne’s mum really does take the biscuit

I HAVE never met Suzanne’s mum, but I would love to.

Arriving at the house and finding the door locked Suzanne knocked, and no one answered.

She knocked again, and waited.

Then she knocked a third time and this

IT wasn’t a conversation I expected to be having in a supermarket. He recognised me but couldn’t remember my name.

“I don’t remember many names these days,” he said. “The dementia is really kicking in. And… it’s scary. Soon I won’t even remember the names of the people I love. But… they will remember me and will still love me. So, there’s that.”

I gave him a hug, helped him find his wife and left feeling helpless.

In our extreme situations, when everything else is taken away, the best we can hope for, like my friend, is to be surrounded by people who love us.

Those of us who can remember that should appreciate it more. time mum opened the door.

“I’m sorry dear,” she said, “I thought you were the seagull who sometimes knocks at the door for a biscuit. I didn’t answer because… well… I don’t have any biscuits.” Luckily, Suzanne did. It tells me a lot about someone that a seagull would come to their door for a snack.

It tells me even more when I hear about them being reluctant to disappoint the bird.

I know where I’m going for snacks in the future!

IT was the strangest compliment Jess had ever been paid.

“You write the best thank you notes,” her friend insisted. “Seriously! You have a real talent for making people feel appreciated.”

It made her think of her mother who always made sure she wrote a thank you note for every birthday and Christmas gift. Young Jess had, of course, complained and been pretty hopeless at it.

“They’re always going to be hard work,” her mother said, “until you learn to put your heart into it.” It looks like she succeeded in that some time ago.

After she told me the story and I looked at her. “Go on,” I prompted. “You know you want to.”

Jess turned her eyes to the sky and said: “Thanks mum. From the heart.”