Compos mentis

From the front window and in the distance I can see waves frolicking among dark rocks and sand. I can almost smell the ozone. The living room is kissed with yellow light – so much so that the entire living room looks warm and cosy. I like what I’m seeing but don’t recognise it. Someone is here and asking me questions:

“Have you had lunch?  Did you take your tablets?”

My cats are eagerly chasing the visitor through to a mat on the floor.  The visitor bends to place two cat bowls down for the girls. 

“Do you have everything?  The TV is on.”

Who are you?

“I’m your health visitor, Lisa” she’s nearing the front door and throwing her jumper over her shoulders.

But, how did I get here?

“See you in the morning.  Have a lovely evening.”  Lisa clumps the door closed behind her.

I’m without any means to ascertain how I got here.  I look at my hands.  They appear dry but ok.  I pick up some yarn, work out where I am in a pattern from a list in a bag beside the chair and start to knit.

I’m in a white room, laying in a bed.  The sheets are stiff and uncomfortable.  There are machines beeping and chirping around me.  I pull my legs to the side, stand up on wobbly legs and edge to the window.  There are plants and trees outside but nothing so dramatic as the view of the beach. 

How did I get here?

I look at my hands.  They are peppered with spots I don’t recognise but otherwise seem to be in decent shape.

There are people around me.  I’m in a chair with knitting in my hands.  The knitting appears to be doing itself so I’m concentrating on the people around me.  Who are these people?  One of them looks like my little sister but with different coloured eyes.  I’m struggling to hear…

I must be dreaming.  I seem to be skipping between moments in the way that I do when I dream…

Now I’m sitting in front of the TV.  I look around before the darkness skips me along to the next dream.  There are a number of comfy chairs here.  There is a window behind me but I’m struggling to turn around to see.  I stand up but cannot seem to manage a fully-upright position.  There is snow on a pine tree in the garden.  I can hear some noise above my tinnitus in my right ear.  I sit back down.  A woman comes in with a tray of cottage pie. 

“How are you feeling now Jade?”

I’m good.  Hey!  Where am I this time?

A twinkle greets the eye of this woman as she says “You, Ms Hammer, are in the TV room.” She gestured grandly towards the oversized TV. 

Taking the tray, I slump slightly and roll my eyes at her.  Seriously.  Where am I?

“Oh!”  Her eyes exclaimed along with her mouth.  “You are in the Surrey Residential Home with me, Ms Hammer.”

Don’t call me Ms Hammer.  That was my mother’s name.  Jade is fine, sweetie.  How long have I been here?

“Almost three years.”

Why don’t I remember coming here?  I said as the tray landed on my lap.  I picked up the knife and fork and looked at my hands and saw unmistakably old hands – they looked like the gnarled bark of a tree!  

What the bloody hell happened to my hands?! I said as the silverware slipped from my fingers.  Where is Troy?

Dammit.  I seem to have slipped away again.  Am I dreaming?  At first I was in a house by the sea.  Then I was surrounded by people…  Then I was asking for Troy.  What if I’m not dreaming?  What if this is my life now?  

Where is Troy?  Tell me where he is!!

Where is Troy? Where?

Published by Jade Hammer

It is in the deepest night that I have contemplated all the things I have thought, said and done. Why these things come to me at night probably says a lot about how the mind belittles and magnifies aspects of the personality. In sleeplessness, you see nothing, you also see everything: life themes, life lessons, ways to better approach your own thoughts, words and deeds. My name is Jade Hammer and these are the life lessons that have kept me up at night.

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