My mum was the oldest of four children. She was studying for her A levels and there were hopes that she would become a teacher. One evening she was attacked on her way home from a friend's house and had a breakdown so did not finish school. On a whim she and her cousin applied to the GPO to become telephonists. They were accepted and she worked in the telephone exchange until she married my dad. Dad was in the Navy and stationed at a base just outside the village. They had met in church and he fell in love with her straight away. Mum didn't find out for many years that after he had met her and known her as part of a large friendship group the next time he went on leave he broke off his engagement because he knew that mum was one he would marry.
Dad was in the Navy and mum loved her life as part of the Naval community, moving from post to post. It was a big change for someone from a tiny rural community where English was a second language for most of her friends and neighbours.
I was an only child and loved by my parents and family. Our house was ever quiet as mum and dad both had a tendency to bring home waifs and strays - homesick sailors and Wrens, wives who were missing their husbands, anyone in need. There was always a way to squeeze an extra seat at the table and to make dinner stretch to feed one more.
When I reached secondary school age they decided to settle down and dad left the Navy. A few years later they bought the house where we now live and mum threw herself into the life of the church. She and her best friend were always the ones who would volunteer to take someone to the hospital, sit with someone who was lonely, entertain visiting preachers. We used to tease them, saying they lived for others and you could tell who the others were by the haunted looks on their faces.
Old age caught up with them both and twenty years or so ago mum's friend developed dementia. Without her partner in crime mum started to slow down and her own health began to deteriorate. My dad had various issues including a hernia and a bad back and they began to rely more and more on me. Mum's mobility decreased, dad picked up most of the slack and I filled in the gaps. But even though her pain was not really managed by medication she still wanted to host coffee mornings and afternoon teas with her friends and friends of friends! She would still babysit my tribe and showered us all with love.
When dad died I took over everything that he had been doing and became her arms and legs. The physical side of caring - the personal care, getting her up in the morning and to bed at night got too much and for the last year she was at home she had carers twice a day to do those things. I still did all her meals and everything she needed including being her almost constant companion.
Through all the pain of losing her parents, her younger sister, my dad and crippling pain in all her joints she still kept up the appearance of a serene, happy person who always put others first.
Sadly her lack of language makes it impossible for her to express her feelings now. It is my turn to try and show her in ways that she can understand how very much I love her.