Tuesday, 22 March 2016

A life lived.

She’s a people person.  She loves everyone, and everyone loves her.  A devout catholic in a close knit parish although I’d seen her welcome in her local Jehovah’s Witnesses for a cuppa.  They’d call on her for a catch up and a cuppa, such was the person she was; the person she still is.

And now she’s alone, with intermittent spells in hospital.  After four months of bed rest, her legs are not strong and so she keeps falling.  But she’s alone, reliant on visits from friends and loved ones.  Her next of kin have advised the staff she is to stay alone in her room; she is NOT to mix with others in the day room.  This is the same next of kin who threatened her best friend, an 84 year old priest, that if he continues to question, It will bar him from being able to visit her.  The same next of kin who has placed her on the dementia wing of the home, even though she doesn’t have dementia.  This force of evil, this next of kin, has placed her out of sight, waiting for her to die so It can cash in on her.

No one knows where her mementos are.  Her keepsakes, photos, proof of a life lived.  When she was her younger self, beautiful and full of life.  She is of course still beautiful, but now she looks weary, and frail, and old. 

There’s a mixture of despair and melancholy deep within me mixed with the fires of anger and rage.  I veer wildly between nails through the palms fury and despair.  How could anyone treat a human being like this?  Can someone answer this, because I just don’t know. 

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