Changes and goodbyes

It was good to visit my Mum for a week. After the whole scare with the cardiac arrhythmia (which is still not resolved, just temporarily on hold), I was worried that I'd find her much worse than when I had last seen her in April, but she didn't seem that different. She had just developed a sudden fear of stairs and hills, as she said that any sort of climb made her feel incredibly exhausted and unwell. Though we did go up one steep road together eventually, and she realised it wasn't actually that bad when it wasn't 30+ degrees out (no duh).

I also got to visit the garden one more time and it was very bittersweet. I picked up a couple of keepsakes, but it was weird to think that I likely won't see the place again. I could definitely understand why my mother made her decision though, because seeing her and seeing even the comparatively tiny amount of work that was still to do in late September, such as picking up fallen pears, raking leaves etc., it was still clear that it was too much for her now.

I definitely had mixed feelings going back to England. On the one hand, peacefully staying with a parent as an adult always has a limited shelf life in my experience, so I was glad to go back to my "normal" life, but I also felt bad about leaving her behind because it's clear that she's really struggling on her own now.

At least we got to wash all her curtains while I was there (something that makes her disproportionally happy for some reason) and we also started looking into options for having some sort of assistant/carer visit occasionally to help her out with stuff. Plus I'll get to see her again for Christmas.

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