A Fractured Mind

By Summer Dawes

In Memory of Mavis Bell

Sometimes the happiest memories we treasure can come from times of our deepest despair. They can be times that are painful to remember, yet ones you wish you could relive. So, here is where our story begins.

It’s a cold, dark January evening the boys and I laugh and mess around. The deafening sounds of sirens echo throughout the court. Concerned, we peer through the window to see where it had stopped. To my shock, it stops outside our elderly neighbours house. I fear the worst and go to investigate. Our neighbours daughter Karen, who has a lung condition, was struggling. I was told she would be fine upon my arrival and so I return home, somewhat hopeful that things were fine. Unfortunately, the truth was far from fine…

Karen passed that January leaving Mavis, her mother, alone and lost. Mavis was like the sunshine- warming, bright and full of joy. During her hardest time, we became pillars of support to her. In the end we were all she had. As time passed, we started to realise that Mavis may be suffering from dementia. Slowly but surely she was displaying some symptoms we knew all too well. As a result, she was checked over and confirmed to be suffering from Vascular Dementia. Her care became more demanding as the disease progressed. Helplessly, we watched as she deteriorated before our eyes. She became a shell of the woman we knew. Weakened and absent from her own mind. She didn’t even recognise herself in the mirror, horrified to be informed that the old woman sat on the other side of the room was her own reflection. It was painful to watch someone slowly lose themselves outside of their own control. I would give anything to be back in that position. To speak to her. To touch her. To laugh with her. She was a neighbour, but she felt like family. The last night of her life we listened as she breathed, the task becoming progressively harder for her as she attempted sleep. Morning came and we watched the sun rise on that faithful, early morning in May. The warming colours dancing across the sky. Feeling the heat on our skin and absorbing our peaceful surroundings. The birds sang a symphony of beauty. It was serene. It was perfect. As we gathered, ready to switch shifts in caring for her, Mavis’ breathing became raspy. We knew in that moment it was her time. Four of us surrounded her. We comforted her. It was okay. You fought a long, hard battle. Her spirit was ready to be freed from the prison that was her body. I held her hand, watching the rise and fall of her chest slowly come to a halt. Her final breath departed her body. Lifeless she lay as we sobbed not only for the woman we lost, but the freedom she had finally gained.

Never before had I considered that death could be something you may look forward to, but after seeing the fear in her eyes over her last few months, whilst she slowly became less aware of who she was. It was devastating. It felt inhumane. Despite this, the months spent with Mavis will forever be etched into my memories. A special piece of my heart belongs to her. Forever and always your ‘Little Rose’.