We all have pet hates, things we really hate to do and so we moan and groan and whine until that job we hate so much is finished. Mine at the moment is changing the beds, stripping them down, putting on new fresh sheets etc and then laundering the old ones. I just hate it, don’t know why except perhaps it is because we no longer share the one bed. Did your mother say: “If you want to share his bed, you better marry him first?” Mine did. So maybe not sharing a bed is still a worry for me.

It is now some years since we changed from one double bed to two single beds. The new ones have thick supportive mattresses. The frames are strong, solid wood and the whole ensemble is very heavy. So at the end of the process, making two of them, I feel as if I have wrestled with an alligator and come off second best.

My mother hated cooking. At 80 she stopped. Maybe it was the dementia or her age, or none of the above but she just stopped. My poor old Dad who had cancer, and was on killer chemo treatment for that, had to take over the kitchen. He got a system going whereby he cooked heaps and they had it for four days. A beef casserole might be fine on day one but by day four it was really bad nutritionally and not good at all in the peak summer season but all he could manage. I used to take up meals when I could so he didn’t have to cook all the time.

I know some people hate shopping but I find it therapeutic. It can be one of our best things to do as it is half social time. Today we saw people from every part of our lives, so we’d walk a little way then stop and talk. Don’t you just hate those people who block the aisle, standing with a trolley side by side? That was me today. And we had lunch with my “boss” at Kids Club as the eating area was crowded and we offered to share our table with him. It was nice to just chat casually as we ate.

While Ray had a haircut I caught up with an older friend and we finally had that coffee we’d promised for so long, it was only for twenty minutes but I think it was a break for both of us. She looks after her son who is forty and has had stokes and now has seizures. He is the loveliest guy but must be hard to live with. She seems to cope but she is past seventy and it is a big responsibility for her especially as he often has them late at night and she has to phone the ambulance and follow him to the nearest hospital at a time when an older lady shouldn’t really be out alone.

I caught up with a lady I became friends with in the Dementia Lodge where Mum was before crossing the road to the nursing home. H. is a widow now, of the four of us that formed a little friendship group I am the only one who isn’t. H’s husband died last year. She had a heart bypass shortly afterwards. She says she is fine now, just unmotivated. After so many years of caregiving it is not easy to go back to a single, self-regulated life. I hadn’t seen her for a while so she told me who had died in the Lodge in the past month. For a facility with a population of only 25, the average is four a month. Only a few like Mum live on for years after entry.

I saw Mum today. The activity was a program of music and exercise, it is done Tuesday and Thursday mornings so it is often on while I am there. The aids who do it are not trained musically so it has some funny moments as they try to sing and dance at the same time. The residents join in to different degrees. The sounds of their attempts make me smile too. I am not laughing at them, just enjoying being there with them. And I do enjoy the visits some days. With so much mental and physical illness you would think it would be all serious but these are wonderful human beings who although struck down by the terrible illness “dementia”, are still making the best of their remaining days with the help of family, friends and a caring staff.

It is sunny today, overcast this morning but fine and sunny now. It is spring, the birds are singing, well screeching actually as they are parrots, but never-the-less it is a day to be happy to be alive.