Funerals aren’t much fun, I seem to be surrounded by the death of dear friends. Arthur was in his 90s and in failing health, Freda was only 80 but had had Alzheimer’s for some years, Lionel was 95. The latter two’s funerals are in the next two days and Arthur’s wife has opted for a party to celebrate his life, on Saturday. I’ll go to all three occasions and, for what it’s worth, I’ll pray for them. It’s just thinking lovingly, whatever belief I may or may not have is nebulous and for myself alone, anyway.

I visited Jan this afternoon. Fond as I am of her, she’s quite difficult. She’s been in a nursing home since mid-August, initially for a fortnight’s respite care, but once Social Services got involved, it was decided that she shouldn’t move home without an overnight carer. That is correct, she really can’t manage alone – and now the care plan has been updated to include a daytime carer too. She is 90, very intelligent and aware and quite awkward. Her willpower, which is considerable, is channelled to won’tpower. I don’t know if she will get home, but not if she doesn’t agree to any constructive suggestion and I’m very sorry and sympathetic, but her objections aren’t helping her.

But there, what will be, will be. I am going to try to help – frankly, behind her back – even without her cooperation. I know I might fail, but I’ll have tried my best.