We are slightly in a mid-life crisis, with aging parents hundreds of miles away, living in a big house with a huge garden and refusing absolutely to get help. We all try to persuade them but they are adamant. (Perhaps that is why we consciously have moved somewhere small.) Mother, in her mid-eighties has become like a delightful little girl again - from running her home so completely ship-shapely, and producing fantastic banquets, we go to stay and there is dust on the window sills and the bed-linen smells ever-so-slightly of cheesy feet- her sheets always had this wonderful smell of Fairy Snow and lavender --it is sad -- and yet, at 11.30am she is saying, "is it time for our drink yet?" A glass of red wine is now obligatory -- good for her heart you see, then at 5.30 the same thing -- and she is happy, even when she suddenly switches out of consciousness and forgets who we are and then , equally suddenly , switches back in again. It is hard to imagine them not around. I reflect on life and think of friends made from schooldays, from university, friends made when the children were born,when they were at school, friends made as we moved from one home to another. My best friend committed suicide a few years ago, another very good friend died a couple of years back --this is the time of life when one no longer seems immortal --so best just to get on, get up and ENJOY every day.