This week my brother rang to say he had last-minute tickets to Madame Butterfly at the Royal Albert Hall. Could I bring Mum or would I prefer to bring my partner? I struggled with my conscience, but only briefly. “It’s difficult bringing Mum out at night. I’ll have to take the car instead of public transport.” What I really meant was I fancied an unencumbered night out. I knew how much she’d love Madame Butterfly, so because I felt guilty I decided to call in on her on my way to work.

When I arrive, Mum is up and dressed. She looks different in a way I can’t quite pin down until she says, “We’re looking for my teeth.” Her carer is there. She comes every morning to remind Mum to take her medicine and help tidy up. Mum seems to draw out the best in her carers, and her current one is no exception. She’s Ghanaian, sweet-natured and very conscientious. She’s also inventive and is currently using a ladle to empty my mother’s dishwasher, clogged up – again – with vast amounts of fat. I hold a bucket beside her and we discuss Mum’s increasingly alarming habit of leaving fat heating up on the stove.

I resume the hunt for the missing teeth

Read more:

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2007/mar/17/familyandrelationships.family2