My Aunt's Birthday Lunch

We had great parents, me and my twelve cousins have always said that. Our parents were great. All six of them, 3 families, we were very lucky.

They loved us, they did everything for us, well, you know, good things, not spoiling us things. They took us all away on holidays at Xmas. We had boats. We all became really good skiers, actually, great skiers.

They were really great people, our parents, we all agree. And, surprise, surprise, we all turned out just fine, all of us.

Well, they are all dead, except for one. My lovely aunt is the last one.

And today, we are all meeting for lunch to celebrate her 95th birthday. I think all twelve cousins are coming, plus a couple from the other side of the family to me.

My cousins had cousins who used to join us on holidays and then there were lots of us.

And it is lovely, we all like each other and we all get on fine. We all get on great.

The problem being, my aunt is in the clutches of dementia and she is struggling with who we all are, no matter how we might hope she doesn't.

She'll be wheeled in in a wheelchair, she'll be sat at the end of the table, with that slightly vacant dementia look on her face. We'll say hello to her hoping she knows who we are. There are two Christian Fletchers, my cousin and I have the same name, so that's always had its confusing moments, more so now. 

We'll all enjoy the meal and we'll chatter away, and laugh and tell stories, none of which she'll be able to participate in. She can a bit, minimal. And when it comes time to go, we'll kiss he as though she knows who we are. There are a lot of us, of course. And we'll all head home.

It's just sad, that's what it is. My lovely, gentle, aunt, such a gorgeous person, now kind of a non-person, a blank space, disappearing.

It just makes me feel kind of sad, more than it makes me feel anything else.