Life's not good

Life isn't too promising at the moment.
So sad and upset.
Saw parents and aunty just before Christmas, though I had been thinking of going up perhaps with husband this weekend, but son said he was going, and then my sister.  Trouble is now my sister can't go because her car wheels got broke in a ditch.
Mum, who used to read this blog, now can't see and not being able to see can't remember what she can't see, like the cup of coffee we've just put in front of her, and told her it's there.  But she has to see to know it, so she forgets we told her it is there.  To add to her misery, she's losing her hearing, so mis-hears and then can't make sense of what she thinks she heard, like "I've got a table in this document", she misheard as "I've got a cable in this document".
Aged Auntie has a different form of forgetfulness, and a stoic attitude that her local priest described as "Here day, go day, soon come Sunday" attitude  her.  Not only is she cheerful and accepting of life's restrictions, though she would like to stop falling, forgetting where she is and go out without having to have company to stop her falling and getting lost, but she is eating well, smiling, remembering better than she was and is philosophically accepting of life's trials.  She's our father's sister, and I can see the stoicism in them both, the stoicism that he is drawing on in his need to support our ailing mother.

At least son and new wife will be going for a few hours.  Mum doesn't welcome people for too long because she can't play the host any more, see the food in the freezer or what the dial on the microwave says.  She can't see other peoples' problems, like catching wheelchair wheels in a grubby rug, or an iron that is too clogged to steam any more. And she can't see what work her cleaner of 17 years does, an enthusiastic, honest and loyal worker.  Listen to her saying happy Christmas: https://audioboom.com/boos/2754739-carol

She's the salt of the earth, and like salt, a little cheer goes a long way.

Dolls

My godmother made this brown cloak for my doll, Susan, many years ago. The cloak must have shrunk because now it fits only Marigold. The corners are gone because my Aunty Grace's dog, Kim, chewed one of them, and Aunty Grace mended it by making them match. The stitches are tiny.

I still have my godmother, but Aunty Grace has gone.