Since You've Been Gone

Well, Ma Mère,
There have been so many times when I’ve gathered up all the little shiny moments I’ve collected during the day, ready to present to you in our evening phone call and then I remember all over again that you’re not there. But, Mum, so much has happened since you’ve gone - maybe you know, maybe you don’t - that I’ve decided to write to you instead. 

A few days after you died, we sold our house! After all those months! We even joked about you rattling cages somewhere. At first, nothing happened and then suddenly everything happened at a breathless pace and the next thing I knew I found myself driving (yes, me, driving!) along the M4 to Bridgend and the Time Capsule House, the one you said you and Dad would have bought. I remarked, when we first viewed it that if it was meant for us, it would come to us. Over a year later, when it had been under offer twice, we moved in.

Oh, Mum, you and Dad would have loved this house; it’s peak Seventies and the decor - the pampas ensuite with gold fittings - would have looked amazing in its prime, but now it’s all a bit tired and in need of some TLC. Actually, a bit more than that in the case of the electrics which were nearly all original! Luckily we found some brilliant electricians who, after warning us not to touch the unearthed metal chandelier, took pity on us and returned in double quick time to rewire the house before we electrocuted ourselves.

As you know, we wanted to move closer to family (too late for you, Ma Mère) and to facilities and, my goodness it’s just as well we did. To rewind a little though, our run of horrible illnesses continued after your death. Our lovely, Lily, as we call her here, caught a streptococcus infection, and very quickly became seriously ill. You remember, ‘Truly, Madly, Deeply’ and Jamie dying of a sore throat? I wondered how that was possible until it nearly happened to Lily. She caught something called supraglottitis - a rare and life-threatening swelling of the internal structure of her throat - she couldn’t even swallow her own saliva, Mum. I can’t even think about what might have happened if Russ hadn’t taken her to A&E when he did and as it was, she spent three days on an acute medical ward - then came home with cellulitis where the cannula on her arm had gone wrong.

I had a bit of fright too. I eventually decided to see a GP a few days after a freak accident in which the passenger door of the blue car, slammed into my face giving me a lovely black eye and some cuts and bruises. Thinking about your skin cancer, I also asked the GP to look at a possible sun damage on my face. That was fine, but one thing led to another and a few weeks later (whilst the removal men were loading up the van, in fact), I had a punch biopsy and an excision of a couple of suspect moles. Nothing like a cancer scare, when you’re moving is there? Both turned out to be fine, I’m relieved to say, but I’m currently sporting a new long scar at the base of my neck… better than the alternative though.

We love this house and we’re thrilled to have so many great facilities within walking distance or a short drive and I’m so, so happy to be closer to the girls. Lily, Rose and I had a brilliant day of spoiling ourselves in Cardiff; a ‘Tangled Hair’ treatment at Lush, lunch at John Lewis and a fabulous dinner at Thomas at Pontcanna. I thought our run of bad luck was ending that day, Mum, until I got home.

Tom mentioned that he’d had heart palpitations and that, according to his Apple Watch, his heart rate had been fluctuating wildly all afternoon. The next day everything seemed to have gone back to normal, but Sunday was a very different story. When Tom’s heart rate went into arrhythmia we went straight to A&E - luckily only two miles away - where he was almost immediately seen by a consultant and wired for tests. It turned out to be atrial fibrillation, but after six hours in resus and various meds, Tom was sent home with new medication and a couple of outpatient appointments and we hoped that was that… we were back three days later. After a temporary visual disturbance, Tom was admitted to… yes, an acute medical ward.. where he spent two nights and had various test all of which - to our huge relief - have been normal.

Mum, I’ve got to say that the first night I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I had to drive the black car home - the one I’ve never driven before - and I couldn’t even find reverse on it at first and had to ring Tom to ask what to do. Well, it was either that or drive over the hospital flower beds to get home. It was the early hours of the morning by then. I drove home in the dark and sat in the dark when I got home, because of the rewiring, and I didn’t know what was happening to Tom. I thought of you, Mum, how you insisted on going home alone after Dad died, how you bought and renovated your time capsule flat on your own, how you stayed so strong all those years no matter what life chucked at you. I’m not half as brave as you, Mum, but I’ve tried my hardest.. and if you’ve got any say in this, I’d quite like a break now!

So there we are, Ma Mère. A whirlwind tour of everything that’s happened over the last four months. Let’s hope it’s going to settle down a bit from now on. Oh, and we carried out your last wishes and scattered your ashes where you requested with Dad, although the ‘death admin’ continues. You may not physically be here anymore, but you’ll always be with us; as our wise friend, Jan, remarked ‘a force of life like Doris just doesn’t disappear.’ We love you and miss you.