A cracking life

Good Neighbours, Good Intentions

The man on the trolley came by yesterday to apologise for Dear Anna knocking at my house in the early hours. Obviously I told him it wasn't necessary to apologise, I was just worried about her. My fears were realised. He told me that the following morning he reminded her that her husband was dead and and he pulled a shocked and distressed face to show me her reaction. He told me that sometimes when she is really insistent that he is still alive and wonders where he is, they tell her that he is working overtime to get some money for her birthday, and then she is happy. Re-living a grief is like stabbing yourself continually... the worst kind of ground hog day.

He told me some stories about the other neighbours and the rows over the years... Anna keeps going to another neighbour's house, Petra, because years ago she thought she and her husband were having an affair. Petra has dementia also... they row in the street over something that happened over 30 years ago, but to them it is still very present. Sometimes he has to go and split them up... Anna is 87 and Petra 82. He says that it is funny to watch them, then he waved his hands in the air and said:
"Still love, I've had to put up with this for 50 years.. I'm glad I've still got me marbles"
Ain't that the truth.