My neighbour P, the anorexic, chain-smoking, cancer-ridden ill lady who has spent so much time in hospital in the last few months, has died.
Last night in her sleep and thankfully without a lit cigarette in her hand.
Her carer A phoned her last night and P picked up the phone but being unable to talk just grunted into the phone, so A knew she was okay. Well, alive at least. But this morning A came to see her as she'd woken with a bad feeling, let herself in with the spare key and found P already cold in her bed.
I was in my back porch beginning to hang my washing and heard A phoning the ambulance, they arrived quickly and were soon followed by police.
I went around and spoke to A for a while, to see if she needed anything, if there was anything I could do, but everything was under control. We both cried a bit, even though we'd been expecting this for a long while now, it is still sad when the day actually happens.
A did ask me to walk around to other P and let her know. Other P has done a bit of shopping now and again for ill P, mostly cigarettes and newspapers, cat food.
I asked if I could rescue P's potplants, she had quite a few on her front porch and most of them weren't looking too good, some were already dead.
A phoned around a bit to other carers and P's brother to see if it was okay, or if they wanted any of the plants, nobody wanted them, so now they are all in the shade around the side of my flat, where my garden is and they've all had a good watering.
I think keeping them alive and incorporating them into my garden is a nice way to remember P, who was always nice to me.
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