Read In the Midst of Life for Free Online Page B

sides: Karen, his mother, the girls. He had let them all down. But how? What had he done wrong? The nurse listened but could only sympathise.
    And what of Mrs Ratski in all this? She was the most pitiable figure. Within the space of three months she, who had been a vigorous, determined old woman, had been reduced to an invalid. And her mind and character had subtly changed also, Slavek noticed. The strong, wise matriarch whom everyone in the family looked to for guidance had gone, and a whining, querulous old woman he did not recognise had slipped into herplace.
    Mrs Ratski was turning in on herself more and more each day. Her thoughts seemed to be centred entirely upon her colostomy. She spent hours muttering to herself, picking and poking at the bag. The old lady who had been the strength of her family throughout decades of war, suffering and foreign domination; who had survived a prison camp; with all her strength, all her resolution to get to England; all that she had endured in hospital; everything was reduced to a pinpoint of focused attention – her colostomy.
    There was no doubt that her mind was slipping away from her. She could not understand where she was or why she was there. Probably the acute illness, the anaesthetic, and the drugs had affected her mind, however, the cultural isolation must have had something to do with it, too. The language everyone around her was speaking confused and bewildered her. But it may be – in fact it probably was – that her brain cells, together with all the other cells in her body, were growing older day by day, week by week, and dying, as all living things must die.
    One can hope that she was losing her mind, because it would have been a merciful release from loneliness. She had lost all that was familiar, her home, her daughter Olga and grandchildren, her friends, her country and the rhythm of her life, her language and her Church. Everyone around her was doing things to her that she could not understand. No one, apart from Slavek, showed her any love, and she loved no one. The hope must be that senile dementia was laying its kindly hand on her mind, inducing confusion and forgetfulness. Awareness and remembrance of loss would have been more cruel.
    The year was drawing to its close, and the nurse was behind the screens tending Mrs Ratski when a quarrel erupted between the young couple.
    Karen unexpectedly said: ‘I’ve decided to take the girls to my mother’s for Christmas.’
    ‘Why?’ asked Slavek guardedly, although he already knew the answer.
    ‘I can’t face Christmas here, with your mother in theroom.
    How can I put up a Christmas tree and hang paper chains? We can’t have presents under the tree and a nice Christmas dinner in there; I can’t invite people in. No, we’re going to Mum’s this year. I’ve told the girls and they are looking forward to it. You can come, if you like.’
    ‘But your parents don’t really like me. They won’t want me for Christmas.’
    ‘Well, you can please yourself. Mum says you’ll be welcome if you want to join us.’
    ‘But I can’t leave my mother here on her own!’
    ‘It’s not my responsibility. I’m doing what I think is best for the girls. I want them to have a good Christmas.’
    He became angry.
    ‘How can it be a “good Christmas” if you take them away from their father? That’s not goodness, that’s selfishness.’
    ‘Don’t you call me selfish! I want—’
    He butted in before she could finish the sentence.
    ‘I remember when I was a boy, my grandfather died in our home. It was Christmas time, and all the family were there. We were children, and we just accepted it. We all played, and had a “good” Christmas.’
    ‘Don’t you keep reminding me of how you were brought up! Peasants, that’s what you were, peasants. No wonder my mother doesn’t like you! Well, I’m not a peasant, thank you very much. I was properly brought up, and I’m going to see to it that my girls are, too.’
    ‘I