The Game

Just because you’re in your eighties it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t enjoy life. Me, I just love an adventure. Nothing pleases me more than going to new places; meeting new people; seeing new sights.

I have also rediscovered the joy of playing games. That’s sometimes the problem when we grow old, we forget how to play.

My son Robert is grown now. He likes playing games too. Whenever I go out on a new adventure, I take a picture on my phone then send it to him with the message ‘where am I now?’ He has to guess what I’m up to. I don’t make it easy for him. If I’m in Paris I don’t send a picture of the Eifel Tower. But he’s razor sharp so he usually gets it after a few guesses.

Just lately I’ve been getting some strange texts back from him. He seems to have forgotten the rules of the game? Or, perhaps he’s just got fed up with playing?

——————

“It’s about my mother doctor. I hate to say it but I think we’re going to have to have her sectioned. She’s become a living nightmare lately.”

“Really! She’s always seemed okay when I’ve seen her.”

“Well, yes, she’s okay when she’s with people she knows and when she’s in familiar surroundings. But she’s got into the habit of wandering off lately and getting completely lost. She’ll get bus or a train with no idea where it’s going. She’s even got on a plane and ended up in Europe. My wife and I had to fly out and rescue her. Have a look at my phone if you don’t believe me. Look dozens of messages asking ‘where am I’?”

“I see what you mean. Yes, I agree we’ll have to do something. Her safety is paramount.”

—————-

My son Robert believes I’m stupid. He thinks my doctor’s stupid too. But we’re onto his game. He wants to get control of my money. He can’t wait until I’m dead. I sent him a picture of my doctor and myself outside the police station the other day. I added the message “Where am I now?”



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