Heading home

K. picked me up at 8.30 to take me to the train at Connel, as I had to leave, and return to Stroud. Unfortunately I made the mistake of popping into my mother's bedroom to see if she was awake, and to say goodbye. She was awake, and asked me to come back soon, and began to ask me all.sbout my job in England. I told her I had to get back to my patients. She could hear from the crack in my voice that I was close to tears. I didn't know when I'd see her again.

I hadn't got far on the train (Taynuilt, one stop) when my sister M rang to say that our mother had wandered out onto the cycle track in her dressing gown, and been brought back by a helpful man. The warden had been called. Apparently she had gone out to look for me because I was 'sad' and she wanted to talk to me. So there she was, wandering around outside looking for me, while I ended up crying into my coffee on the train. Awful. I felt so guilty.

M. rushed around to the flat, of course, and found our mother talking to her neighbour, and asking M if the neighbour was her mother(!) and if the man who'd brought her back was her father (no, he's the deceased one in Mexico, not the Polish man in Benderloch). Dear oh dear. We had just been discussing by messenger a council-run 'dementia tag' scheme. Not a moment too soon, it seems.

From Glasgow Queen Street I legged it to Central station without even admiring the new concourse at Queen Street, and picked up GG, who was panicking, because she's a nervous traveller. We changed at Preston and Birmingham, because the Manchester train was cancelled. CleanSteve roused himself from his sick bed to pick us up at Cheltenham, and went back to bed after eating. I'd been awake since 5am, so was glad to go to bed too.

Next time, I'll definitely fly. And travel alone.