Not Haiku

Mimi, my husband's aunt is in hospital.  She is 91 and until just recently she was the sharpest tool in the box.  Now she is bewildered because she has lost her memory and has to be reminded where she is.   She is profoundly deaf and when inevitable lip-reading mistakes are made she laughs.  Remarkably she finds humour in her predicament and each visit is a giggle fest.  Today she picked up a biro which bore the name of a funeral director.  "I'll keep that" she said "Good to be prepared".  Happily, she still remembers us, her family.   She is still Mimi, still the woman who makes you feel you've been wrapped in a warm blanket. 

Why am I posting this to Haiku?  because the journey to and from the hospital is 140 mile round trip and I "write" my haiku while I'm driving.  I pass the fields with the sheep and tiny lambs, the lush green fields and the fields where the golden yellow rape blossoms are starting to bloom and I want to share it with you.

I've tried to share you with Mimi.  "I'm glad you've made friends" she says.  I love that old lady.