She had a wicked smile,
My octogenarian disabled mother.
In the supermarket Christmas frenzy
To which she insisted on joining me,
We progressed at snails’ pace round the aisles,
“You must be methodical, darling!”…
I lost her once, stooped over her walking frame
She sank beneath the coat racks,
To be discovered later in Lingerie.
Having found the ‘little bits of magic’:
Chocolates, napkins, candles for the table,
And picked up the food order,
Clearly enjoying every moment of this infrequent escapade,
We joined the long queue for the checkout.
This was the part I had dreaded
As, despite her protestations to the contrary,
Energy levels were apt to drain unpredictably.
But she had a plan for that as well,
[Of course she did!]
Quick as a flash, her walking frame had turned into a seat
And she sat , beaming,
Wishing everyone the joys of the season!
Jo Hansen 