My Mother's Obituary

Janet Marion Keating was born on October 17th 1944 at 41 Mill Lane, Lower Early. The third and final child of Winifred (nee Weight, 1905-2000) and Gerald Keating (1909-2000). Born after her brother Alan and sister Margaret's bedtime, family legend has it that Margaret came down on the morning of her birthday (the 18th) to the news she had a baby sister - to which Margaret exclaimed indignantly "I don't want a sister, I want my birthday!" ...I gather she got over it eventually and, as the years passed, it became a running joke that Janet and Margaret would post each other birthday cards - remarkably often picking the same card for the other!

Four generations (Woodley, 1996):

L-R: Winifred Keating, Janet Speller, Heggie Speller, Erin Speller

Janet's school record was blighted by ill health, particularly at primary, but she was an intelligent girl who seemed to have kept up well. She was particularly adept with language - English, Latin, French and Music. Later she would often remark that she could wave her arms in many languages. It particularly offended her sensibilities that when, many years later, I attended the same secondary school she had gone to (The Holt School, Wokingham) the jumpers had the school's Latin motto embroidered incorrectly. Even at the end of her life she would shout at the TV is someone used bad grammar or said 'pee' instead of 'pence'. She could have gone on to do A levels but her parents were against it. She used to say if she could do a degree she would take Philosophy because it's so useless - I think that was why I was so drawn to making philosophy part of my degree path...

My mum had several varied jobs through her life - most notably at the Prudential (twice) which she worked hard to gain additional qualifications for. She was certainly a Ravenclaw - not hugely ambitious, but unafraid of hard work or learning new skills. When my parents bought a very primitive computer in the 80s (a Commodore +4) she even taught herself programming putting world flags to national anthems.

Janet married young but it did not work out - she retained the 'Mrs' and the name Speller for the remainder of her life, passing the name to me and my children, leading to no end of awkward questions. In 1998 she had the surreal experience of processing her ex-husband's life insurance claim.

In the early 70s she began a relationship with Owen F - who she met through her cousin Elaine. They bought a house together in Roslyn Road, Woodley and bought a Chocolate-Point Siamese cat named Guinness ('Guinny'). He was the 'planned child', I was rather less so when I came along in March 1978. I loathed my birthname but was always called Heggie for reasons no one has ever been able to recall; my mum even investigated for me the legalities of how to adopt the name officially (which I did in 1993).

Mum gave up work to raise me, because that is what you did in those days, but for a woman with such an active mind it was a strange and unusual torment. My mum read a great deal but was also skilled in DIY and homemaking skills such as rug-making and sewing curtains. In 1981 we moved to Tilehurst and in 1984 back to Woodley. This final house required a lot of work - my dad, who was lifelong in the building trade, would invariably get most of the credit but mum was out there mucking-in at all times. She was especially annoyed at anyone who assumed she just brought out tea and biscuits! In the mid '80s* her father had a stroke - between geographical proximity and the fact she was full time in the home - it fell to my mum to do a lot of care, increasing as her mother got frailer.

*I remember it as being six but that would make it immediately after we moved into

Colemansmoor Road... that doesn't seem right. So I feel like it must've been the year after... 

making it right after I got run over? So I'm settling for a less specific 'mid 80s'

My mum was very keen on travelling, far more so than my dad. Over the years we visited some amazing places: Bulgaria, Tunisia (full tour inc. the Colosseum at El Djem), America, India, Venezuela... Our last big trip - mum, myself, my two daughters - was a Nile cruise in Egypt for my 30th birthday. So glad my mum got to achieve that particular dream. She also got her long awaited trips to Rhodes and Jordan.

It was after our first trip to India that Guinny died, on March 21st 1990. It may seem an odd inclusion but that cat was a very important part of our family. My mum and dad would later revisit India three more times. Mum nearly ended up moving to Mumbai for work at one point and was devastated when it fell through.
People often see loved ones at the end and honestly I hoped she'd see Guinny... if she received any visitations she did not tell me.

I became a single teenage mum and she was present when Erin was born in January 1996; she babysat Erin when I had her sister Kathleen three years later. My parents were less than thrilled but forged good relationships with my daughters. My mother generously paid for my daughters' swimming lessons, music lessons, school trips etc. My parents enabled us to have holidays and put money aside for their university costs. Erin graduated from Winchester University in 2017, the same year I attained my degree from the Open University. Kathleen graduated from Swansea University in 2021 and is shortly to begin her teacher training. I hope we've made her proud.

My graduation (Brighton 2017): (l-r in background) mum's partner Neville Morrell, 

mum in blue, dad, Kathleen and Erin - so grateful to have had everyone there.

In 2000 my mum lost both her parents in quick succession which heralded a new era in her life. My mother and father parted ways and my mum bought a flat in Reading; she had played oboe in her youth and now took up piano-accordion and soprano sax -playing both in a band - and took retirement. My mum met her partner Neville in 2007 and thereafter divided her time between the Reading area and his home in West Sussex.

On Monday 16th April 2018 my mum suffered a severe stroke, unusually affecting both hemispheres of the brain. Fortunately by this time I was living in a house she and I shared ownership of and she had written up a power-of-attorney document. She was able to leave hospital on 21st June and I cared for her at that home until the end of her life; aided especially by my daughter Erin and my dad (who was conveniently right next door) without whose support we would not have managed.

Her decline began there and progressed in fits and starts. We believe she had at least three more big strokes but as the first such incident happened just a week after the first lockdown of 2020 began (and because the hospital did nothing at all for her first) we took the difficult decision to keep her home. She hated doctors, hospitals, people in general... she had a great deal of fear we would send her away. At that time I believe she'd have died of covid or the perceived abandonment as hospital visitors were not being allowed. It was tough, but we managed.
Following each event we got a little less of her back.
Before the end she had been completely immobile for well over a year, her quality of life was quite poor, and she was deeply unhappy. We were however blessed to make her last birthday - an art deco themed 80th - particularly special, and in January 2025 she asked to be taken out in her wheelchair for several walks. Not only was that unheard of for the time of year but she was more enthusiastic for outings than she had been in YEARS - we're fairly sure she did more walks this January than in the whole of 2024!

Mum in Guadalest, Spain (2006)

Janet Marion Speller passed away on Friday, 14th February 2025 at the age of 80.

She died peacefully at home, as was her express wish.

She is remembered by partner Neville, former partner Owen, daughter Heggie, granddaughters Erin and Kathleen, sister Margaret, brother Alan and sister-in-law Valerie, along with many nieces and nephews, their children and grandchildren.
She was preceded in death by (amongst others) her nephews Sean and Allister, nephew-in-law Jack, niece-in-law Penny, brother-in-law Dave, and several dear friends.

Mum's 80th; October 2024

My mother's final text to me (in 2018) was that Tremors would be on TV that night. The last DVD we attempted to watch together was The Desolation Of Smaug. Her go-to choice for a film was Hot Fuzz. Bizarrely she developed a liking for Cockneys Vs Zombies which she requested several times!

She watched Death In Paradise, Vera, New Tricks... she'd rather gone off Poirot by the end but still enjoyed a Joan Hickson Miss Marple.

My mum's taste in music included Queen, Abba, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, and classical music.

She loved a Terry's Dark Chocolate Orange, hash browns (and just about anything potato), and, in her final years, almost entirely subsisted off crumpets (one with a red jam, the other with Rose's Lemon & Lime marmalade). 
Back in the day she enjoyed a Cinzano and Lemon or coffee with brandy. In recent times she had me buy all the coffee-flavoured milk in the corner shop.

She loathed 'peasants' which, apparently, was her verdict on most people. 😂

 

 

Rant-19

The advert ends on the note: "look them in the eyes and tell them you're doing all you can to stop the spread of Covid-19"

WHY??? The vast majority of people who contract Covid-19 do not get seriously ill. Indeed, at least a third never develop any symptoms at all. Yet all are obliged - by law and by force and by threat and by fine - to suffer for a proportionally small minority. And now they add emotional blackmail.

Let's have them, those who are seriously ill, those who have lost loved ones, LOOK THE REST OF THE POPULATION IN THE EYES and say I don't give a fuck for your life, your death, your mental health, your education, your future. Because that's what it boils down to. Sure, if you get covid or lose someone to it that SUCKS but so does cancer or stroke or heart disease or cot death or suicide or any disease under the sun.

Babies are suffering abnormal development and non-existent socialisation. This is the largest involuntary social experiment of all time and may well have lifelong negative consequences. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/coronavirus-babies-toddlers-education-development-school-playgrounds-b1042852.html

Children are losing out on their educations. Disruption in the early years we have known for decades is immensely harmful but we also have kids getting 'results' for exams not sat! IF my daughter graduates this summer it will be from having HALF her time at university stripped away. £9000 per year student debt for NO support, NO services, NO library, NO facilities and precious little by way of education. https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/1390586/coronavirus-news-university-students-fees-online-learning Will her degree even be respected by employers who'll know she didn't attend lectures?!

We are facing a mental health crisis of unparalleled proportions. From the obvious stresses of those on the 'frontlines' https://www.theguardian.com/education/2021/jan/31/covid-stress-driving-hundreds-of-childcare-workers-to-quit-profession to the parents who're trying to work full-time from home while trying to teach their kids full time; or people like me who are caring for a loved one with no support and no respite. We're told to 'Protect the NHS' but the NHS has an appalling track record for mental health support. I told my GP I was suicidal; he replied "I don't care", it was SIX YEARS between my kid's suicide and the eventual referral to CAHMS. There'll be multi-generational depression, PTSD, social anxiety, eating disorders and substance abuse. TBH my family already had all of this BEFORE so you can only imagine what a mess we'll be afterwards. Then there's postnatal depression https://www.itv.com/news/2020-12-18/how-covid-restrictions-are-fuelling-a-postnatal-depression-crisis putting mother & baby's lives at risk. This is not a society but a sham; we are not supporting each other, we're cowering in fear and leaving the most vulnerable exposed.

Businesses are going belly-up at an alarming rate https://www.telegraph.co.uk/business/0/job-losses-uk-coronavirus-covid/ the future is a terrifying prospect of unemployment, crushing national debt, devastating poverty, and empty high-streets. Y'all can argue that you can't put a price on people's lives but POVERTY KILLS.

People are suffering and dying of covid alone which is horrific and inhumane https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/stories-55725812 but what of the (so far) hundreds of thousands of people who're suffering and dying alone of other causes or the (so far) tens of thousands of people whose cancer diagnoses have been delayed or missed entirely https://www.ajmc.com/view/diagnostic-delays-from-covid19-may-increase-cancerrelated-deaths-uk-studies-say.

Death rites are vitally important for the grieving process but we're severely limiting this crucial rite of passage from denying people contact with their loved ones to preventing funeral attendance. When my cousin Allister was dying of brain cancer his parents did a mercy dash to his bedside; his funeral was attended by hundreds. It was still devastating, especially for his parents, burying a second son in a year and a half, but seeing him one last time, seeing the church at standing-room only must've been some small comfort. To think of people like them being denied that is agonising.

"During the national lockdown, no more than 6 people can attend commemorative events such as stone setting ceremonies, the scattering of ashes or a wake." - www.gov.uk

Six people isn't even the immediate family in many instances!

Telling parents they can't even support each other at the side of their premature and critically ill baby is one of the most horrific, inexcusable things I can imagine https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-lancashire-55840222 unless it's not being able to register and grieve a baby's loss https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-sussex-52663205. Or perhaps this https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/coronavirus-heartbreak-teenagers-funeral-limited-21741773 to lose a child after a life-long illness; having anticipated a celebration of her life as a means for the parents to cope with her loss only to have to settle for near enough nothing. It's beyond cruel.

Look a child in the eyes and tell them their education and future doesn't matter.

Look a stressed out and desperate single mother in the eyes and tell her that her isolation and trauma don't matter. Say it again over the grave of the baby she smothered when it all got too much.

Look a man who's gone bankrupt in the eyes and tell him that losing his business, his home, his relationship and his self-respect to the lockdowns isn't as important as a stranger's health. Look his widow in the eyes after he dies of suicide and say it again.

Look an old woman in the eyes and tell her she can't say goodbye to her husband at the end of her life. Tell her she can't see the children and grandchildren she now hasn't seen in a YEAR. Tell those children that they can't offer their father comfort at her funeral.

If you can do any one of those things you're a truly horrible person. But we're all sitting in our homes, protecting our own miserable little lives and allowing this to happen. History is not going to judge us kindly. The moment I knew we were beyond salvation was when the churches locked their doors. The faithful ministering to the sick and dying during times of plague is inspiring; this is the opposite. We have withdrawn kindness under the false guise of protecting others.

One person's life or death is not more important than another's; the many should not be sacrificed for the few.

Humans are mortal; we're all going to die. Diseases are normal and natural, especially one like this that kills the elderly and the chronically ill - the reason the 1918 flu pandemic was so horrifying was that it killed the young and otherwise healthy. Yet in 2009 when the Swine Flu pandemic killed children and pregnant women NOTHING closed, nothing changed. My kid had it - she wasn't tested or seen by a doctor; her school didn't close or even do a deep clean. She survived, 392 others didn't... but at the time of the first lockdown only 400 or so people had died in the UK. How come nothing was done on the back of nearly 400 YOUNG deaths when the entire country was shut for just over 400 primarily OLD people?! Sure, a lot more have died now but thousands die in every seasonal flu outbreak but we go on as usual. Our population is aged and unhealthy, people have been dying at proportionally slower rates for decades. The population crisis has been under discussion for years - we NEED a pandemic to redress the balance and, for the survival of the species, this isn't even the tip of the iceberg.

In 1900 the world population was approx. 1.6 billion; now it's nearly 7.8 billion and that's with two World Wars (WWI 15-22,000,000 dead; WWII 20-85,000,000 dead), the 1918 pandemic 17-100,000,000 dead), HIV/AIDS (32,700,000 dead), and the advent of birth control! More than quadrupled in 120 years with HUGE losses. Covid's currently at 2,230,000. The death toll, taken alone or in proportion to population, just doesn't warrant the devastation the INTERVENTIONS are wreaking.

I'm not afraid of covid; of dying myself or losing loved ones to it. I'm afraid of surviving this hell and trying to rebuild. People dying is sad but IMHO people who wrap themselves in cotton wool and leave the rest of 'society' to rot aren't worth saving.

Two And A Half Years On

Obligatory recap:
When my mum first came here - at the end of June 2018 - after a nine and a half week stay in hospital I very much thought she was coming here to die. In all honesty we hadn't been at all convinced she would even get out of hospital.

Before her stroke my mum, then 73, was getting visibly frailer. She was greyer, more wrinkled, shrinking. The day before I had actually sobbed on my daughter's shoulder that I didn't think we'd have her for much longer. 

That said, she was still living independently, driving considerable distances although she spent more of her time at her partner's house than her own flat for sheer convenience.

Her stroke was described as 'severe'. There's no classification system like stages of cancer that allow you to understand where your loved one is on a broad spectrum that ranges from quick recovery at one end to things such as permanent paralysis, coma and death at the other.

My mum went from moderately healthy and active (type 2 diabetes and advancing age) to completely dependent. And it was a massive shock to us.

Her father had suffered a large stroke when I was a kid. We all agreed his quality of life had been crap yet somehow he lived another 16 or so years. Mum's situation was so much worse it was no wonder we expected her to go imminently.

Anyway, that first year she was home I felt like I was on tenterhooks. Every time she nodded off in front of the TV I'd check she was still breathing. If I woke up before her I'd be terrified she'd died in the night. NOT, I might add, because I am *scared* of her dying so much as it's a new experience I know will be very unpleasant.

I know I've blogged about all this before so I've tried to be concise.

We've recently passed the 2.5 years mark since her stroke and we're also just past the 2 years 4 months since she came to live out her days in the care of her only child - muggins here. And the pressing thing is... how wrong I was back then.

Not only did was she clearly NOT on her last legs, as evidenced by her continued survival, but - and this is the bit I'm especially struggling with - SHE WASN'T ACTUALLY THAT BAD.

Badness is a thing you can only appreciate by contrast. Mid 2018 was BAD. I did not make a bad call in declaring it bad. It was absolutely the most horrific experience... until you experience WORSE.

Worse is decidedly where we are now and I have an uncomfortable awareness that further degrees of badness are both possible and probable.

When my mum first came here she was so catastrophically not the person she had been that it was difficult to see the blessings. With hindsight, and loss, they're clearer. That's where I'm at now - realising how much more of her we've lost, especially since what was probably another big stroke right at the start of lockdown.

Memory - she remembered lots of past things although she had an unfortunate mental block on her partner's name.
Her memory is far worse now. She blanks lots of things, and far more names. She rarely reminisces.

Personality - back then she was still pretty much herself.
Now her principal remaining characteristic is a stubborn streak a mile wide.

Intelligence - my mum's never had an IQ test and her parents made her leave school at 16 but she's a seriously smart lady. There's something kind of hilarious about a stroke survivor who can't remember the name of her partner but can spell obscure words, correct grammar and yell abuse at someone misusing French on TV.
Some of it's still in there but we see less and less of it. She still uses some rather impressive words at times.

Speech - we adjusted to the new sound of her voice quite slowly.
She just passed her 76th birthday (whodathunkit?!) and she had three phone calls - each person said how good her speech was... yeah, it's not like that real world. Her speech is very difficult to understand now, even though I'm with her full-time I struggle. I've started her on drink thickener too which is indicative of deterioration. Gotta try to persuade our not-so-with-it GP to put it on her prescription next.

Mobility - it didn't bother me seeing my mum using a walking frame. I was all in favour for the stability, as was she. The hospital physios had wanted her to try for sticks but my mum has ALWAYS been pro-frame. She first used one in her 50s when she suffered a broken ankle & DVT. Safety was always a higher priority to her than appearances. She would walk to the loo on her own... from the living room. She would get up to the loo on her own in the night.
She can't get up from a chair without assistance now, let alone out of bed. It must be a good year and a half since she went to the loo on her own and forget walking the length of the house! These days she never moves anywhere without at least one person HANDS ON.

She used to come and sit in the living room to watch TV although it drove me nuts that I was expected to watch endless Midsummer Murders repeats when I don't even enjoy watching TV; now she hardly leaves her room... which at least means I can get stuff done from time to time. She sleeps a LOT more.

Old age is not beautiful. It is grim.

Mum's Thread

Just after my mum's stroke I pinned a tweet and started a thread to help me keep stuff together. It has occurred to me that one day I'll need another such thread for my dad. And that will require unpinning my mum's tweet. And losing that thread is abhorrent to me.

So I have decided to preserve it here. I imagine I'll edit this post accordingly.
LAST EDIT DATE 05/02/2022

It all started with a photo - posted 20th April 2018 (four days after her stroke). The photo is one of the few I have - she has always hated having her photo taken. It's from Spain in 2006.

On June 6th I started the thread:

My mum's stock phrases since her stroke (a thread) [although the thread later mutated into an assortment of funny comments and random nonsense to be saved for posterity]

I shall have to think about that

Who knows (drawn out intonation)

Well, there's a thing

As those were all the same date I'll list the rest with their dates after:

In response to you going ANYWHERE (e.g. work, the loo): Have a lovely time (2 July)

To anything making a noise (e.g. passing helicopter, herself coughing): oh, shut up! (2 July)

Not a stock phrase but tonight at dinner: Is there any salt for this? ...no...for eating...bread...bread in a box...over there...bread in a box! Bread in a box! Erin bought it...BREAD IN A BOX!!! (Turns out she was asking for tissues - my composure was deeply compromised ) (4 July)
I have to know about these things (11 September)

I'm a heap (22 September)

Delight...delight... (8 October)

Things to yell at the TV: Bollocks! I hate him/her He/she's AWFUL Oh go away (25 October)

Overheard (to my dad): It's no good rushing me, I'll bite you! (25 October)

I'm all wrong (3 December)

IT'S NOT 'HAYTCH' IT'S 'AITCH' - AITCH AITCH AITCH - IGNORANT PEASANT!
(1 January 2019)

Someone on TV: I was laying there... Mum: it's 'lying' you bloody moron. You LIE not LAY! Me: maybe they're a monotreme (11 January)

Overheard My dad: I wanted to have a talk to you this morning about- My mum: NO THANK YOUUUU!!! (13 January)

• I'll stay in my room forever • Because I'm old • I'm too old (Sometimes these three come in sequence) (13 January)

I *think* my mum just asked me if I've cooked any of the pokemon I've caught...I am more than a little worried. (11 February)

Me: did @17_Erin get you to brush your toofs earlier? Mum: no...(realises tactical error - she hates being made to brush her teeth) yes - yes - YES!!! Me: *scowls* I'll let you get away with it this time... (12 February)

My mum wants the 'old stuff' ...or the stuff that goes with the old stuff... or she wants to know what happened to it. The context is pudding. Does anyone have the foggiest idea?! Conciliated with banana instant whip.  (17 February)

Things my mum can't stand about #Endeavour He's always got his hands in his pockets It's 'aitch' not 'haytch' you idiot! That bloody moustache!!! (3 March)

Overheard... Mum: How's Heggie Dad: A bit Heggieish Mum: OH DEAR! Me (Heggie): OI! (8 March)

The next one had an image attached - something I saw on Facebook:

This actually very like how messaging my mum used to be. Certain questions were completely ignored, answers arrived without context - she always deleted the email thread so I had no idea which message she was actually replying to. (pt1)
(pt2) Not a lot has changed: Me: Would you like some pudding? Mum: What've you got? Erin: *rattles off a list of the usual suspects* Mum: *pause* Yes. (18 March)

Me: (pauses dvd 10 mins early, suggests a loo break) *time ticks* *theme tune starts* Mum: I think I will go after all Me: *audible eye-roll* (23 March)

My cat Hennessy has precious little to do with us hoomans (sensible lil furgit) but his favourite interaction is to play 'chicken' with my mum's walking frame...I think my mum enjoys this too - "MOVE DOG!!!" she shouts at him ;) (TBC)
(cont) Tonight however, instead of shifting his hairy butt at the last possible moment, he let mum roll her wheel right into him! He just lay there and let her prod him with it!!! We were cracking up! (26 March)

Mostly to my dad, fussing & trying to keep her warm and comfy: LEAVE IT ALONE!!! / LEAVE ME ALONE!!! (It seems mum doesn't want to be either warm or comfy) (28 March)

My mother is pissed off that her coffee is cold because she didn't drink it, doesn't want another and, when asked what's the matter, told me "twenty to three"... (10 April)

My mother doesn't want to watch anything but she also doesn't want to watch nothing. This means endless channel hopping with me getting the blame for not picking something I have no interest in watching...whut??? I AM SO BORED. (20 April)

A year since I started this thread - back when I was still telling close family what had happened to mum. (20 April)

Me: *passes mum her toothbrush* Mum: (Mutters darkly) I don't love you anymore Me: (silent response) Did you ever? (21 April)

Top secret, hush hush - apparently my mum sulking the other day was because she had somehow misinterpreted my going to get a signature witnessed as my running away & leaving her. Blinkin' heck... (6 May)

TV: ...twenty one pounds and sixteen pee... Mum: PENCE! Me: (aside) L - M - N - O - Pence

@17_Erin: *snort* (9 May)

Dad (O): how old are you? Mum (J): 2 years younger than you O: *strained composure* okaaay...how old am I? J: 2 years older than me O: *cracks up* Me: how old am I, then? O: a lot younger than the both of us (24 May)

After watching #BohemianRhapsody for the first time mum said she'd wished it had that duet in it... Me: Oh yes, her with the odd name...why am I getting "Big Gnome"??? Everyone: *blank stares* Me: *racks brains* Me: Oh yes, Monster Rat! Mum: *nearly dies laughing*
[Pt 2] Mum: (still cackling) 'Montserrat Caballé'
Me: That's the one! My mum, stroke survivor with impaired speech, can still pronounce things I can't.(11 July)

*Mum presses call bell, I come running* Me: Do you want to get up? Mum: There was someone at the door Me: Yes, that was- Mum: GET ME UP!!! [and every variant of this ignoring the question followed by being indignant you can imagine] (13 July)

Mum didn't want to go out of her room so I sat in her armchair to stop her staying put... so she SAT ON MY LAP! (21 July)

Re-reading this thread... T'other day Hennessy was playing chicken with her frame again and he lifted each leg out of the way in sequence while staying flopped on the floor. Nearly died laughing! (21 July)

Mum just had to turn a cookery show off cos it was American. What is with the 'Erbs and oh-Rehg-uh-no anyhow? It's HERbs and oh-reh-GAH-no! Also why are chilis in cans? I am so confused. (17 August)

Mum just had her first District Nurse visit (annual diabetes blood test) - infinitely less stress but she still hates everyone and everything and wishes she was dead. This is partly why doctor's appointments are impossible. Difficult ol' bat she is. (21 August)

My dad attended a family funeral today. Overheard this: Mum: did you tell [my cousin] I'm a heap Dad: she knows you're a heap (17 Sept)

My mum is slut-shaming a woman on Say Yes To The Dress who has children but hasn't been married before. Fucking livid. Bad enough if it was just me being a single mother but SHE was an unmarried mother too! Cow! (9 Oct)

Mum: I'm old Me: You're *only* 74, you could be a lot older Mum: (incredulous) Is that ALL???? Me: How old did you think you were? Mum: Nearly 79. Me: Nope, you'll be 75 on Thursday Mum: Oh gawd...are you sure?! Me: *gets out calculator to check* Yep. (11 Oct)

My mum turned 75 on October 17th

Dad: (helping my mum out of bed) I've got cold hands Mum: Don't touch me then *a beat* Mum: (shouts) Why aren't you helping me?!?!?! (25 Oct)

My mum keeps asking me these impossible questions like "do I want to go to bed?" and "what do I want to eat?" how the bleep do I know what you want, I barely know what I want! (28 Oct)

My mum is having a bit of a paddy cos she has an eye appt at the hospital NEXT YEAR and she doesn't want to go. She never wants to go. But she won't tell THEM that. Not my fault she never signed the form for me to make medical decisions for her. (5 Nov)

Me, to my mum who is sitting alone in the dark: Would you like the light on? Mum: Whatever you like Me: It's what YOU like Mum: WHATEVER YOU LIKE! Me: I'm not the one in here, you are etc etc etc (21 Dec)

Me, clipping my mum's toenails: Goodness your feet are scaly - are you a fish? Mum: DRAGON! (27 Jan 2020)

Overheard:- Dad: How was your night? Mum: Alright. Woke up 2 or 3 times Dad: But you didn't get Heg up? Mum: (inaudible) Dad: OH - Me, silently seething: Why don't you get how this works?! (30 Jan)

Me: You have to keep moving, you need to co-operate, if you're not mobile I won't be able to look after you anymore. Mum: You want to get rid of me! Me: That's the exact opposite of what I'm saying here you cantankerous old bat! (6 Feb)

My mum just tearfully asked if I'll look after her when

@17_Erin

is away in Paris next week. Like, really mother? REALLY?! (19 Feb)

Mum: Shall I go on? Me: On and on and Ariston Mum: Do they still advertise? #oldpeoplehumour (2 Mar)

That thing when your elderly mum has you rummaging around the library for a kid's book at a quarter past three in the morning and then gets almost teary when you find it #PlayingBeatieBow (5 Mar)

I loved that book as a kid. She only 'discovered' it a few years back when she bought a hot pig in a charity shop and I told her that's why I knew what it was. She then read it and offered to get me a copy... Even though she'd bought MY copy for me some 20 years earlier. (5 Mar)

Mum: I need to breathe... give me... let me breathe... please... Me: ***PANICS*** She was thirsty. She wanted a drink. (1 May)

There went another year off my life. My life expectancy is now lower than my chronological age. (1 May)

Curious how the meals my mum most consistently turns her nose up at are the ones that most resemble her cooking... Maybe she hated her cooking as much as I did growing up?! (3 May)

My mother just threw a mega hissy fit * 'YOU NEVER CAME IN!' Woman, I have been sitting outside the door all evening * I didn't put her to bed when she told me she wanted her hair done * she's now super over tired * I asked if she was an adult or a toddler and she says 'TODDLER!' (19 Jun)

My mum just chewed me out for my not telling her my dad decided not to do something for her. Well I'm sorry madre, didn't seem important considering you nearly died in the meantime*. Didn't exactly seem high priority. (30 Jun)

* Mum had what we believe to have been another severe stroke on March 29th. I say 'believe' because being a week into the Covid-19 lockdown hospital wasn't an option so there was no formal diagnosis... and indeed nothing on record whatsoever. Unlike the majority of Britain we aren't filled with awe and love and respect for the NHS. When she was in hospital before she was emphatically NOT treated well (allergies not alerted, wrong medications given, put at risk of falls, frequently left without water or an alert button etc etc) and part of why she had at least one visit a day was to keep an eye on her... The pandemic has meant that wasn't an option. And if we can't visit she's not going.

The first few days were so bad we were 1000% convinced she was about to die. I actually sent kits - with incense and spirit money - to her partner & my younger daughter away at uni so that (given funerals & travel were off the menu) we could memorialise her in a different way when the time came. And yes, writing this at the end of October 2020 I am ASTONISHED she's still here.

So I looked after her at home. 'Fortunately' the pandemic made it a little easier to have Erin work from home during the greater part of the crisis. She spent at least two weeks confined to bed, it was 8 or 10 weeks before she was mobile enough to go in her en-suite bathroom! Erin and I had to lift her, bathe her in bed... I cannot praise my 24 yr old enough for knuckling down and doing anything that was necessary.

BEFORE Me: Do you want to watch something? Mum: I don't know what there is Me : *types up full list of our DVD collection* AFTE Erin: Do you want to watch something? Mum: I don't know what there is Me: Kill me already (4 Jul)

So far today my mum has asked for chips and cheese - we have neither - and fruit. Every time she has asked for fruit in recent times she has meant fruit cocktail. Apparently today she wanted a peach. We don't have one of those either. (28 Jul)

And thanks to this stupid mask bollocks I can't get her what she wants either. (28 Jul)

Me: How are you doing, mum? Still feeling a bit 'off'? Mum: The end is nigh Me: Well there's some positive thinking! (9 Sep)

Not part of the thread but it really should have been:

Me: *fast asnoozlebye* Mum: Heg! HEG! Me: *comes running* Whut? Mum: What's that noise? Me: I hear the washing machine and you yelling Mum: *points at bathroom* Bathroom: *FLAMES* (30 Oct 2020)

Was wondering aloud if my mum needed exorcising rather than exercising... Mother shuddered.

@17_Erin

: *reciting the Latin* Mum: SHUT UP! Bwahahahahahahahaha! (10 Nov)

Mum: Bedtime! Me: *puts her to bed* Mum: You're cruel Nice. Thanks mum. (31 Dec)

Last night my mum refused her meds, screaming: BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THE FUCKING THINGS!!! Then she added, sweetly: Dear Then she gave a big, toothy, evil grin. I cracked up!

[A very specific LOTR gif] (22 Jan 2021)

Mum: I'm a heap Me: What are you a heap of? Fish? Mum: Pilocarpine! I cannot believe she got that reference! The Thumb Mark of St Peter by Agatha Christie (1928) (8 Mar)

My mum: "Tuscaloosa Opelika Apalachicola" Me: How the heck do you remember that?! Three words from an ad on TV when we were in Florida for 16 days in April 1989. (11 Mar)

Me to my mother: You're being very un-cooperative

@17_Erin

: Yep, she's being Londis Me: ??? Me: ?!?!?! Me: *penny drops* Me: *melts into hysterics* (20 Mar)

Me: Stop grabbing the radiator* - one day it'll come off and then where will you be? My mum: On the floor Me: And where will the radiator be? Mum: On top of me Me: And what will dad do? Mum: Shout at me Me: And what will I do? Mum: Shout at him for shouting at me

* it's a heated towel rail she insists on using as a grab rail. Have a go at her for pulling on it multiple times a day. (14 Apr)

Tweet from Erin / 17 April 2021: Grandma: *grabs radiator* Me: you're not supposed to do that G: it's not on M: won't be on the wall much longer if you use it as a handrail G: good M: and then what would you grab? G: the floor M: no... (18 Apr)

Last night my mum was telling me how awful I am and how everything is my fault (nice): Me: And why is that, I wonder Mum: I suppose it's the way you were raised Me: So whose fault would that be, HMMM??? Mum: Your dad (7 May)

Me: You seem surprised to see me, are you surprised to see me? Mum: Yes Me: Where would you expect me to be? Mum: January It's a good thing I find this funny cos really, it's not. (14 May)

Mum: I don't know anything Me: That's sad; don't you know me? Mum: No Me: Who am I? Who am I? Mum: I'M JEAN VALJEAN! Me: Correct!

@kathy1452_ (1 Aug)
So my mum was writing birthday cards today. She asked me to check they were legible. One line flummoxed me. She looked at it and admitted she couldn't remember! Anyway... we puzzled over it until the penny dropped, for her. It was "Hope you can read this" LMFAO! (30 Sep)
Then my mum, who can barely see worth a damn, looks across the room and says "what's that?" I, a limaxaphobe, go to investigate and pick a rice grain sized SLUG off the WALL OVER HER BED. What the actual fuck?! (30 Sep)
Actual interaction: Mum: *alarm rings* Me: *jumps up* Mum: *rings alarm a 2nd time while I am on my way from the next room* Me: What can I do for you? Mum: I've been ringing for HOURS* Me: It's only just rung - twice Mum: Then it isn't working* Me: Well it clearly is
* it's worth mentioning that in addition to the battery operated emergency bell she also has an old brass bell to hand precisely for that eventuality... she did not use it
Me: What can I help you with? *crickets* Me: What it your emergency? *deathly silence* Eventually I find out what the problem is and go to help in a prompt fashion Her: HELP!!! Me: I am helping you
Honestly, I know she can't help being an old dingbat but this is actually amazingly in-character for her. She gets so infuriated by people not being psychic. Help should arrive BEFORE it is summoned and results should be instantaneous... yep, that's her.
A whole bunch of my childhood trauma centres around her being ready to leave the house and enraged because I haven't been given any time to get myself ready to go. Not. Bloody. Psychic.*
* okay so I've had a few instances but it doesn't work like that. (7 Oct)
Tonight my mum gave me a spontaneous hug and told me she loves me. Should I be worried?! Such a thing is unheard of. (31 Oct)
Tonight my mum told me she wished I would drop dead and tbh it's the most back-to-normal thing she's said in 3 1/2 years. It's no good pretending we ever had a good relationship. She's just less toxic than my dad. (4 Dec)
Mum called me through because 'people in the shed' Eventually got it decrypted as 'cat is in the porch' (i.e. wants to come in) (5 Feb 2022)

Second thread off the original photo for memories and factoids:

Starting a sub thread of things I have learned since my mother moved in: My grandad knew how to blow up trains I think this was a Dad's Army kind of thing...at least, I hope so! (20 February 2019)

My grandad used to keep bees and would rescue bees from the neighbourhood and bring them home.  (20 February - with stock photo of beehives)

My mum had a dog called Patch Patch bit a neighbour so my grandma had Patch put down. My grandma didn't TELL my mum this but let my mum go to the dogless yard...my mum STILL hasn't forgiven her (20 February) [my grandmother died 25 Dec 2000]

A manège may be home to part of your ménage (20 February)

Mum used to work with an Oliver Cromwell who objected to being called 'Ollie'
(18 March)

My grandad worked in Iceland around WWII time. The British had pulled out and the Americans had come in. The British had left two guys to help with the radar - one to teach the Americans gow to use it and one to fix it when it went wrong (mum thinks her dad was the fixer)
(9 Oct)

They went from British rations to American rations. He was asked how many eggs he wanted for brekkie and thought he'd died and gone to heaven! He entered an ice cream eating competition just cos he hadn't had ice cream for years.
(9 Oct)

I knew there was something about Iceland cos I believe that's where the family rock came from but I thought it was more radios than radar if you know what I mean. My grandad had a thing about radios.
(9 Oct)

FAO @kathy1452_
I always understood my mum's Auntie Kitty (for whom my youngest is named) lost her sight at age 14. Today she came out with the info that she'd regained it briefly shortly after her marriage. Apparently Ted* took her everywhere so she could see everything.
(25 Oct)

*Kinda glad I never met Uncle Ted because I don't think a man could live up to the myth.
(25 Oct)

Edward 'Ted' Hogben died of a heart attack in 1971 at the wheel of his car. He had no time to seek help or even cut the engine. He used his last moment to pull into a car park so as not to take anyone else with him.

Apparently my mum could've confirmed my dad's gas lamp memories years ago because the Liddiards and Felthams lived a few doors apart... not only did he never ask her but no one ever mentioned the families lived close!
(30 Oct)

My dad's mentioned any number of neighbours but I'm sure I'd have noticed if he'd mentioned THEM.
(30 Oct)

My mother's mother (Winifred Keating Nee Weight) had a sister Doris Liddiard whose daughter Elaine (being my mum's cousin) married Graham Feltham. Elaine tried to set my mum up with Peter Feltham (whose first name is Raymond...no one mentioned this until I was in my 20s) but my mum got together with another brother instead - my dad, Owen!
For the record, there's four brothers: Fred who married but had no issue; Graham who married Elaine Liddiard and had two children Carl & Kathryn. (Carl married Dahlia and has two children - Melissa and Aaron; Kathryn, known as Kay married Tony Kirtland and had two children - Dylan and Kaidyn); Owen who never married yet had me; Peter who never married and has no issue.

In recent years my dad has been unable to process that while Carl and Kay are older than me their kids are currently children whereas mine are adults!

On Dec 1st 2019 Kathleen Dennehy (daughter of Brian) shared this thought with me via twitter re: Uncle Dave's death:
Wrapping your whole family and everyone who loves your uncle in white healing light. Our loved ones never really disappear, they move into a higher plane of existence, and are always with us... according to my Buddhism Sunday school.
I'm gonna need that thought when the time comes.

Kathleen's dad Brian died 15th April 2020 of cardiac arrest from sepsis. He was 81.

Apparently my grandmother (born 1905) had a teacher who made fun of her name. "Don't be ridiculous, nobody's called Winnie-FRED"(5 Dec)

It was a perfectly normal name of the era, a SAINT'S name. No idea how old this teacher was but it had been #36 in 1890, #18 1900, #12 1904, #10 1914...it was unlikely she'd never encountered it. Nasty, ignorant teachers are nothing new it seems.(5 Dec)

'Winifred' had also been a US top 200 girl's name since at least 1880 and remained so until 1927 https://nameberry.com/babyname/Winifred (5 Dec)

My mum in her youth was hot stuff!

(19 Feb 2020)

I had never heard of this but she randomly started quoting it on the commode. (link to 'Seven Old Ladies' lyrics) (19 Jun)

I had long had it in mind that my cousin Sean (1965-2014) had been a nurse at one time but after finding out after he died that his degree was in archaeology I started to think I'd imagined it... Mum confirmed he was a psychiatric nurse. (26 Jun)

Mum: I'm a wreck Me: What are you a wreck of? Mum: Hesperus Me: Never heard of it Me: *now reading about "The Wreck of the Hesperus" - a narrative poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow* Me: Oops, ordered it. And 'Evangeline'. (21 Apr 2021)