Things
The end of my mother's life came in a residential home for the elderly in Beverley, East Yorkshire. She lived there for two years as her savings dwindled away to pay for her accommodation. It was quite a nice residential home. She had her own first floor room and the staff - who mainly came from Bulgaria and The Philippines - were great. For some odd reason, Mum imagined that they all came from Kosovo. If you are interested, I blogged about the end of my dear Mum's life here and here and here . She was eighty six years old when she died. I still think of her as a warrior. She taught me so much that I would not know where to start. In the old folks' home, they sometimes sold off, at bargain basement prices, the left behind belongings of those residents who had shuffled off their mortal coils. It was at one of those sales that Mum bought herself a "Winnie the Pooh" glass. When in turn Mum vacated her room via the heavenly exit from whence none shall return, I...