Death Cafe

[poliphilo]

 My attention yesterday was focused on the phone. When the call came through at tea time it was to confirm that my mother has been accepted by the nursing home of our choice.

We'l be moving her a week today.

The manager wanted to confirm that this would be a permanent not a temporary arrangement. "Oh, permanent!" we said.

(Though what does "permanent" mean when you're dealing with a person only a month away from their 101st birthday?)

In the evening we went to a meeting of The Eastbourne Death Cafe. I didn't know any such thing existed but apparently its a worldwide phenomenon. Our therapist thought we might be interested. We were.

The Death Cafe meets in an Italian restaurant in the town centre. There were nine of us, including the organisers, divided between two tables. Basically what we did was eat Italian food and talk about death. My contribution was mainly esoterica because that's what I know. I hope I didn't overdo it.

Fancy people not knowing that there's a medieval ossuary (meaning charnel house/bone store) just up the coast in Hythe! I'm always surprised by the things I know and others don't. 

This was the first time Ailz and I have been out together in the evening for at least ten years because circumstances. Once my mother is safely tucked away in her Tudor nursing home (it looks mock-Tudor but is apparently the genuine article) we hope to do more.

Comments

[cmcmck]

I'm glad you've managed to get that sorted out.

[lokbiiviing]

Good for you. I have thought whilst reading your entries that she requires around-the-clock professional care and that if you keep caring for her by yourselves with just the occasional visit from a nurse, you might become bitter. Perhaps she was in better shape ten years ago? But now it's definitely time and I think your decision was the right one.