Sunday lunch for one

I’d taken a cup of tea back to bed and was just about to get up again when the hospice rang. Juliet had pressed the bell because she woken up and was thirsty, and in between a nurse getting her a cup of tea, she’d fallen into a very deep sleep from which they could not wake her up, and with irregular breathing. Probably another – quick – seizure.

By the time I got there, she had of course recovered and they were washing her, so she looked very well, all pink and scrubbed and clean in bed. I fed her breakfast of her favourite museli and blueberries, at the end of which she fell fast asleep again. This cycle kept happening for a while. Most of the time I just sat at the side of her bed and when she opened her eyes periodically she saw me there and smiled.

By late morning I had a small snooze also and this time J had fallen deeply asleep again. I’d come in to have Sunday lunch with her, but I ended up having it by myself: watercress soup, roast beef and apple pie & cream. J slept through it all. I went and played the piano – new Beatles songbook that I’d picked up in a charity shop – returned and she was still fast asleep. So I came home.

J as young girl

J as young girl

About hodders

Husband and proud father of two daughters. Now a widower. Trying to balance between not dwelling on Juliet's death, but telling the world how much I loved her. Tricky.
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