I don’t know exactly what this evening will hold. Life has been fragile this week. My mother moved into a dementia ward yesterday, and the reality of that environment was confronting—residents calling out, staff doing their best under pressure, and a sense of stepping into the unknown.
My father, at 95, is still in the family home but currently in emergency with an elevated heart rate. He has been recovering from pneumonia over the last few weeks. He has enjoyed good health for most of his life, but his body is starting to slow down and he is feeling the stress. Thankfully, there are three of us siblings close by, and we’re doing our best to support one another—ready to drop things when needed, ready to carry a bit more weight when the others cannot.
So what am I doing this evening? I hope it is simple. A quiet evening where everyone settles, where sleep comes easily, and where tomorrow feels a little less heavy.
The Afterword 
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