Uncle Noel RIP

Yesterday I went to the funeral of the last of my mother's seven siblings. Uncle Noel died peacefully at the splendid age of 93. He started as a miner at the age of 14 but continued his education and after the war became the Deputy Master of Worcester Workhouse. What a splendid title! Pure Dickens, porridge and all. For the rest of his working life, together with my aunt, they cared for old people and they did it really well. My Aunty Mair's cooking was legendary!

When Mair sank into the swamp of dementia, it was all the more frustrating (polite version) to see the lack of care that she received despite the determined afforts of a feisty eighty-odd year old husband. Hospitals trying to discharge her because she "wasn't ill as such" and local authorities acting with a complete lack of urgency. After all, Uncle Noel could help (no, they hadn't noticed he was crippled by two very arthritic hips).

After Mair's death, Noel moved into a care home run by MHA (a methodist charity). At last, he received the sort of care that he and Mair had given to others. So thank you to MHA, the staff at Norwood, Ipswich and to Noel and Mair for lives spent providing real care for people not clients.