Sisterhood

Good morning good morning all you lovely women! Today's posting has been sent in by author Sue Hill of Barricaine Books in Devon. Sue very kindly offered her musing on the theme of  'Sisterhood', and here it is for your enjoyment. Please do send in your notions of what 'sisterhood' means to you and/or your own story, I will be happy to post it up for other women to share.

Sisterhood

by Sue Hill

 

The two times that immediately come to mind are birth and dying.  The birth of my son’s son, his first child, and, at the other end of life, my mother’s last years.

My grandson arrived two days after Christmas; staffing levels were down at the (beautifully named) Ladywell Unit at the local hospital.  The birth was taking a long time … the hours passed slowly … I was aware that for the male partner the whole experience can be long, and mysterious .. men are witnesses to such an unknown procedure … this was not my son’s partner’s first child, which somehow made his role more vulnerable …

By evening, and no baby, I thought “He’ll be hungry!”  We made fresh chicken sandwiches and took them to the hospital.  We found the Ladywell Unit all closed up; I had to ring a bell and speak through an intercom; could I come in?  “I have sandwiches for my son ….”  !!! 

I was allowed in ……

I stepped in and it was like walking into a cocoon of muffled cotton wool clouds, how the top of clouds seem when seen through the windows of a plane … it was a silent cocoon, wrapped up, safe …

Save for my son, there were no males in sight … it was a female environment, the team of midwives and nurses working quietly together towards a successful birth.

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I hadn’t known that things had just come to a crisis and that Dan’s partner was just being given an epidural … so my appearance with the sandwiches was not very well-timed!  Maybe I overdid the Mother Hen bit!

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And at the other end of life, the years of the running-down of life, and the team of women carers who became my mother’s life-line;  women working for a pittance, and yet cheerful and warm and lovely.  They became real friends to mum, and to our family; they made mum laugh, one lady even took mum in her arms and danced her around the lounge …. marvellous  ….

When there was a change of agency, and a new set of carers started, there was a younger Eastern European woman, called Slava … mum couldn’t get her head around her name … Slava became Salvia, Saliva ( just as mum’s mother, my Granny, couldn’t get Jeremy, my husband’s name .. … he became Germany, Jeremeny) … Slava announced “Don’t worry, I will look after your mum!”  And she did, beautifully.

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I miss seeing those ladies … I hope that their working conditions have improved, that they are getting paid for their travelling time (and the petrol), that they are allowed to spend time with the elderly and not be rushed … I hope those ladies have happy lives.

So – caring women who form part of the great sisterhood.

And my own sister … with mum gone, we ring each other now after travelling any distance, to say “We’re home safely”. 

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I do not pretend that all women are such caring people.  I have been hurt by supposed friends, and known the spiteful bitchiness of working colleagues.  They are better not thought about.

For the lovely ladies in life, I salute you!

 Sue