We visited his sister yesterday. It was a good visit. I drew and they chattered away. There is ease now. They are beginning to really know and love each other in a way that I suspect neither did before. Something has been released. Perhaps Cis’ death his allowed this intimacy to blossom, who knows. Either way I am glad. She is happier, though maybe that is the wrong word. Too strong, for one must acknowledge how much she has lost. Her life is reduced, immeasurably. She has lost her beloved husband, her home and her indepence. She cannot walk or even get out of a chair unaided. But she can read, she still has her wits and her wonderful humour. And she is so loved both by family and, as it appears, by the carers who tend to her needs. I am glad for that too. She is accepting of it. Just as she accept that tat that they hung on her on door as a gesture towards Christmas. Would I in her situation? She is gracious, where perhaps I wouldn’t be. I can only admire her for it. All of it.
