In just a few days we have celebrated Mothering Sunday and Sorrel's birthday.
It's kind of " mother" overload, which is strange as my own mother died back in 2002.
Last night we all flopped in the living room to watch tv after a rather impressive meal out at the Chester Grosvenor. The channel 4 documentary 24 Hours In A&E was on which proved to be somewhat of a busman's holiday for me and a rather gruesome spectacle for Sorrel.
One story featured a " before and after" moment with a prickly and somewhat lonely old lady called Wendy who had shattered her ankle after falling at home.
She was feisty, opinionated bordering on rude, brittle and at times incredibly vulnerable as we watched her negotiate the frightening world of being a patient.
Dovetailing the shots of her medical care, we got to glimpse the " real" Wendy. Her hair brushed up and back, a neat little pullover covering thin shoulders, she talked about her previous two husbands with a mixture of righteous indignation and sad regret and tempered this with the brittle repartee so evident in her casualty clips.
It was clear that she had probably given the producers a run for their money.
It struck me that I was, in fact, looking at my mother, and immediately I told The Prof and Sorrel so for the similarity between Wendy and my mother was so striking that I was amused, and suddenly rather moved by it all.
I had literally seen a ghost and although I made light of the programme, and the similarities between Wendy and my mother, I found myself turning my head away from the rest of the living room............... with my eyes gently stinging.