I still remember the phone call from my mum explaining about ‘that night’s’ events and the feelings that followed. Although, I was happy that granny was safe and that the weight of care and stress had been significantly lifted from my parent’s shoulders, it was still very sad that Dorothy would not be returning to her home. I have never returned to her house since she left. It now has been sold to a lovely family who will, I’m sure, continue to make their own great memories within those four walls. For me, when granny moved out of that house, it ceased to exist anymore; its spirit and love we all had for it left the day my gran locked the door for the last time that afternoon.
Although, the signs of granny struggling living by her own had been prominent for some time and, in actual fact, she had managed to stay in a home quite far into her illness, I don’t think we realised just how severe the dementia had progressed. It is quite likely that granny had been hallucinating for a while, which my family struggled to come to terms with feeling very guilty about how afraid she must have been. But in a matter of 20 hours, that had all changed and granny was quickly transferred to a ward/holding centre at the local war memorial hospital, until a room at a care home was available.
I travelled back to Portsmouth from my house in London, a few days after speaking with my mum on the phone. I was nervous about seeing Dorothy. I had always had the opinion that any centre that worked as a housing facility or care centre for the elderly gave off a certain macabre atmosphere. I wanted to see granny sat in her favourite green chair in her heavily floral decorated living room just one more time.
I went to visit Dorothy with my mum and sister that evening and found her sat in the living room area with the other residents. The unit was much as I had expected it to be and it took me a while to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. The nursing staff and actual facilities were brilliant but as it worked as a hospital unit, it gave off that hospital ward vibe. Granny looked very well and had put on some weight due to her frequent meals being provided to her on a regular basis. It was the routine she needed and it was slowly bringing a bit of the old granny back.
Granny was absolutely delighted to see us and took hold of both mine and my sister’s hand as she showed us around her temporary home. Granny walked with her favourite white handbag over her shoulder. Inside she had her diary, some tissues and her favourite shade of Clinique lipstick that she applied as we sat down on the edge of her bed. This was a habit she continued until about a year ago as, even though her handbag had nothing in it, it was something she loved and brought her comfort.
Dorothy was in an 8 bed ward with curtains separating the beds. She opened her draws that contained a single nightie, some underwear and some fresh clothes my mum had bought with her for granny to wear the next day. The snores of one of granny’s new roomies startled us as and broke our conversation and we sat giggling like school girls.
Dorothy was happy which made me feel much better about her being in the unit. She could not remember her home that had brought her so much independence and comfort for nearly 23 years, it’s significance gone. She loved being in the unit and told my mum that she was enjoying being ‘away on camp’ to which we think she was referring to her days as a WRN. She was reliving what was possibly the happiest time in her life.
We found a little family room and sat in there talking about work and family as she spoke fondly about my mum. After a little while an elderly gentleman entered the room and sat himself down on one of the seats. ‘Hello,’ said Dorothy. ‘How are you today?’ The man answered her questions as he looked around him. After asking what he had done that day, he erupted into a story of stalking Nazi’s and crawling out windows as we all sat and took it in. Dorothy listened carefully and nodded along as he mimicked crawling across the ground and hiding behind walls. After some time, he excused himself from the room and left, peering momentarily back into the room at us before disappearing again. ‘What an absolute fruit cake’ said granny as we all giggled.
That night we left Dorothy as she sat herself back in the living room with her white handbag and peered around at the other residents, looking for somebody to chat to. She was happy and safe but the worry of finding the right accommodation for her was still prominent. However just a few days later that all changed……
