Love in old age

I arrive at the ARCARE nursing home, flustered after a tussle with Centrelink regarding the daily fees I have to pay for Dorothy’s accommodation and care.

Dorothy sits there in a chair, pensive and silent. She says, “Hello”, but I fear she does not really know me, where I fit into her life. It hurts knowing who she was only yesterday, last year, at our Sunnybank home for forty years, back when we were courting. The love as it was then, comforting, sharing, viscreal and exciting.

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I stroke her hair – the lovely God-given curls, silver and soft. She looks up and smiles. I want more – that love that is hidden. The intimacy we shared.

We celebrated her 80th birthday last year in June. It was a happy occasion but sadly ten months later she has no memory of it. She is content but the love is fluttering somewhere ‘Over the Rainbow’.

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About rpsimson1936

Retired geography and outdoor education teacher who loves orienteering and writes novels.
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