A Stable Clientelle

Any time, indeed every time I hear myself remarking on how stable my client list is I remember with a start what lays ahead. It means change looms imminently, and so I brace myself, hoping not to be too jarred by the tremors.

My list was stable. Two days a week every person I visited was well into their nineties. The same three ladies, my pretty maids all in a row, were on those days, one at a time of course. It was such an honour to stand in their company. I was the suckling pig, nursing wit and wisdom hungrily.

One tumbled and broke in three places. Her convalescence in a nursing home did not suit and she let go. One caught the flu and the flu caught her and away they flew together to neverland. The third, adamant that she would stay in her own home until the very end, heaved a great sigh, her last sigh and sank with a smile back unto her pillow, while in the other room her children noisily commented on what a burden Mother was. As that last breath exited her lungs, that smile, and the twinkle in her eyes was dazzling for an everlasting moment. I tucked her in and went home.

Change, she blows hard and we all bow down.