He always asks her what she’s been doing that day. She is held captive by physical incapicity. Life has to come to her. She knows this and he knows this. But we (and I say we, for we both participate in valuing how she has to live) still give her current existence creedence and value, no matter how small and restricted. This is her home and, indeed, her life now. When he asked her the same question yesterday she said, Father Christmas has just been. What, he said, checking the date on his watch, it’s now the 28th, what’s that, three days late. We asked what happened and what he looked like. She chortled away down the phone. Yes, he was round, and yes he’d dressed appropriately, as you’d imagine a Santa to be. No, he didn’t bring her a present but he did walk into her room and pick up a few of her teddies. What a lot of teddies, he apparently said. Insightful. She seemed to be non the worse for the encounter. And she clearly enjoyed telling us about it. And there hadn’t been some cheesy mush for lunch. Things are looking up. How I love her…..
