by Rosie Harris
‘You have your freedom and you have a lovely flat,’ Tim persisted. ‘You can have friends round to visit whenever you wish. You still see Hilda and Sally, don’t you?’
‘I never see Hilda, she’s moved away to live with her daughter in Scotland. Like me, Sally finds it increasingly difficult to get around. We both feel it would be wonderful to be somewhere where we had our own room, but other people had all the worries about buying food and cooking it; somewhere where we wouldn’t have to change the bed or wash the bathroom floor every week. No more coping with bills, or dealing with equipment that had broken down and has to be repaired or replaced. It would be like our little holiday all over again, but without the worry of it ending and returning to normality.
‘All this would be taken care of by someone else if we were in a nursing home and we would still be able to have visitors, enjoy sitting out in the garden on sunny days, and probably have all sorts of entertainment laid on for us from time to time.’
Tim shook his head. ‘Can you afford to do that, Mother? I’m willing to assist you, of course …’
Betty laid a hand on Tim’s arm. ‘If you sell the flat for me there will be more than enough money to keep me in a nursing home. Please don’t try and dissuade me, Tim. I have given it a lot of thought, I can assure you, and my mind is made up and it is what I want to do.’
Forty-One
Betty, sitting in a comfortable armchair, looked round the sunny room with a feeling of pleasure and contentment. All her favourite possessions were on view: family photographs and those other possessions she treasured the most.
The window looked out onto the garden where hanging baskets and well-stocked borders were all in full bloom and she breathed a sigh of sheer happiness.
She had done the right thing by coming into the nursing home, she reflected. She had peace of mind, no worries, no responsibilities and no domestic chores. It was perfect.
Twice a week she met up with other residents in the communal lounge for coffee mornings and twice a month there were activities or entertainment of some kind in the same room in the afternoons or evenings.
Sally had moved in shortly after she had and her room was only across the hallway which was very reassuring.
Sometimes Betty felt she was more in touch with the world around her than she had ever been. In some ways it was a new type of world but she found it comforting to know that there were people she could call on if she needed any assistance as well as people less capable than she was; people to whom she could sometimes give a helping hand.
Tim seem to be amazed at how contented and happy she was but then, she reflected, good and considerate though he was, Tim really had no idea what it was like to be old. No one really did, not until they got there.
She leaned back in her armchair and closed her eyes. One of the joys of being in the nursing home was that she could have a doze whenever she felt like it without feeling guilty and she found that a cat nap was so wonderfully refreshing.