On Poisoning Your Spouse

It's been an odd couple of weeks (although months, now, really), my Nan (on my Father's side) was admitted to hospital after a fall, and is now in residential care due to her being completely bat-shit crazy (and not at all well).

So there's been that.

This is something we had sort-of been prepared for given her declining state.

What I hadn't been prepared for was encountering the woman who has lived opposite my Nan for essentially all of the time I've been on this earth (but also for the many of years preceding that, you see, she knew my father as a little boy, and he's not exactly young).

 Today I (truly) got to meet her and learn about... well. A LOT.

Let's start with the facts. Just so you can truly get the image of this incredibly... vibrant woman. She is an elderly lady, a smoker (and asthmatic) who lives in a small town in Essex, born in the East End of London, who was sent into care at a young age, along with her older sister, after both her parents contracted tuberculosis. There were many beatings in this care home. She also grew up Catholic. She had a son who was schizophrenic, who died fifteen years ago.

She also tried (on multiple occasions) to kill her husband.

He's dead, now. Not as a result of her. But, still (the image of her blessing the father, the son, and the holy spirit then immediately exclaiming "you bastard" shall remain in my heart for a long time now).

He used to hit her. And he used to ask for a lot of things she wasn't able to give ("It was only six weeks after the birth of the little ones and he was trying to... I had stitches everywhere, so...")

So. She decided to visit the chemists. She decided to purchase some, let's just say, items which wouldn't allow a whole lot of action after use. And she put it in his curry ("curry is good for hiding that sorta thing, y'know").

 I didn't know. But I do now.

By her own words, it was three months after the incident that things were truly able to function again (she also repeated her motions of blessing at this point).

And there are other tales. Really quite gruesome tales. However, if I could convince her to write her own book then I believe hearing it from the horse's mouth would be far more entertaining. Also, of course, I would much prefer to be able to recount her own version fully. She definitely has a way with words.

It was certainly an interesting day today.