I know I mentioned it before but I am reading Jan Morris's 'In My Mind's Eye' perfect evening reading when the mind is too tired to take in more than a couple of pages. One hundred and eighty odd very upmarket blog posts - every one a jewel. And one in my short read last evening brought back a memory from the past.
My parents were happily married for well over fifty years and my mother sadly died first leaving my father bereft. My sister, who lived in the same village, made him a sitting room cum bedroom in her bungalow and he lived with her for almost a year before he had to go ino hospital with a severe kidney illness. He never came out and died shortly after - peacefully in his sleep.
I was reminded of the week of his death vividly by one of the episodes in Jan Morris's book. Not long before she died she was in hospital with a severe kidney infection and one evening, dozing in bed - suddenly through the ward came an ornate, decorated carriage pulled by beautiful horses and filled by beautifully dressed people. When the nurse came by she asked her what the occasion was. It turned out there was no occasion and nobody would have seen it but she. Kidney infections sometimes lead to vivid imaginative hallucinations and this is what had happened.
The night before my father died my sister was sitting by his bed in the hospital ward when he turned to her and said our mother had been given an important job. She was in the ward that afternoon organising an important Indian burial with all the ceremony. He was particularly pleased that she was dressed in the most beautiful sari and she looked young again and her hair was black again.
At the time we found it quite moving and not at all distressing. All his life my father was interested in India - its religions, its customs - his dearest wish had always been to go but of course in those days there was not that kind of money about was there?
See you tomorrow when another Friday bites the dust.