It was that afternoon that I received the first of my inquisitive visitors, coming round to demand how I was. It was as though no-one could understand that my husband’s death was a blessing- one that wasn’t even in disguise!
Well the lady in question was elderly Margo Ford, from next door, a lady recently widowed herself, though from age, not…the way my husband went.
Like the traditional lady she was, she used the door knocker to announce her presence, and, once admitted inside, brought with her a woollen home-knitted blanket and a box of jelly-sweets. She kept apologising and paying her condolences, which really was not helping. Once she realised that she was possibly getting in the way, she preceded towards the exit, and proceeded to ask if I had any friends to look after me now.
Oh, please don’t say that she’s asking for us to be friends?!
I assured her that I had one coming down this evening and, reluctantly, Mrs. Ford left. I guessed at her age she didn’t get many chances to talk to people. Well, unfortunately, I wasn’t going to be one of her new acquaintances; I could put up with the softness and sweet-perfume of an elderly woman, but I can’t put up with senseless chatter, for the life of me. But of course, she had a right to be concerned.
Do I actually have anybody taking ‘care’ of me?