I didn't go to visit Andy today, but this was good news. Gill sent me a text mid-morning to say that he was going to be taken to the local cottage hospital this afternoon. I haven't heard more since, but I presume all has gone as planned, and it will be lovely for both of them. It's a more relaxed, less hospital-like atmosphere and only a couple of miles from their house, so she can pop in and out much more easily. No car parking charges and more relaxed visiting times. The physiotherapy department is excellent, I went there a couple of years ago and had several ultrasound treatments and massages, and was given exercises to do (I must get those out again, I suspect they would do me good. I remember several of them, but not all).
Now I have a box of jelly babies in the car, which call to me. It only now occurs to me that I could have dropped them in at the hospital as a little welcome present to him.
I was out early this morning - not early by the standards of many of you, but it was unusual for me - because I had an appointment for a haircut at 8.30. I thought I'd be the first customer, but my friend Carol was just being finished when I arrived. "I'll show you the back," said Jo. "No, don't bother, it'll be fine," said Carol. I asked if Jo had ever been told it wasn't fine, and she acknowledged that once, when she was a trainee, the customer had spoken out. It was awful, she (Jo) had cried. I didn't probe. Because that's a pretty horrid word (in its Latin sense, yay!) and I didn't want to pile on the remembered agony. Anyway, my hair was fine, and I was told I looked particularly smart and attractive (by the lady of the shop, not her husband) when I went into the sweet shop afterwards to buy the jelly babies.
A friend is on holiday with her family, all of them having had a really difficult few months. Their difficult time (a bereavement) is more recent than the death of my mother, and other horrible things, that had happened when Weeza and I went to India for the wedding of her friend Kavitha seven years ago - almost exactly seven years, I think we left at the end of January. I hope that they are finding it as healing a process as I did. After an enjoyable, but very busy week of wedding parties, Weeza and I flew to Kerala for a second week, of relaxation and calm. We spent as much per night in the hotels as we'd spent in a week in Madras (that is, £60 per night for two instead of £60 per week) and pottered around seeing sights and having a wonderful time. We rode elephants, bareback (elephants' backs) and fed them bananas, we had a wonderful trip on the backwaters and pottered about and sunbathed. It was the only holiday in my whole life when I did nothing that wasn't relaxing. I'm not a sunbathing person (actually, I never moved out from the shade of an umbrella, come to think of it, I sunshadebathed). I told Weeza, that week healed me.
Not quite actually, it took another two and a half years, but it certainly started the process. It was the most deliberately relaxing week of my life, and was a revelation. I've been able to wind down more quickly and completely ever since. All down to Weeza. She's brilliant.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
I don't think I've ever had a holiday where I did nothing that wasn't relaxing. I think I would find it quite frustrating.
It was the first time I had relaxed completely in many years and I desperately needed it. If you were exhausted enough, rest wouldn't frustrate you. And we were doing things too, just very relaxing and enjoyable stuff. The backwaters were just gorgeous.
It's the merest whim, of course, but I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one to enjoy seeing a photo of you riding an elephant.
I would too, Chris. I wonder if Weeza still has one. I didn't have a camera at the time, but I have at least one photograph of that holiday, so photos were taken.
Once...to Hawaii...with my husband...for our fifth anniversary...I'm feeling warm and relaxed just remembering...
Post a Comment