Kathleen Kelly

“Our family was very close, and we always lived not far from each other. I loved visiting my Nan and Pop. I remember that my Pop was a tall man and when we used to visit, Nan would let me know when he was due home. I would wait at the front gate until I saw him coming over the hill and I would run up to him and he would pick me up and twirl me around. Then we would walk home where Nan would have tea waiting for him. They were good times.” This was the first message that Kath Kelly sent me on Facebook Messenger, typing it on her iPad. Previously Kath welcomed me into her room at Princes Court. Her door is decorated with butterflies and on the walls are more butterflies, framed family photos and examples of her beautiful needlework. She was sitting next to the window, in her recliner, immaculately groomed. Her turquoise outfit suited her blue eyes. When I spoke to her cousin, Colleen, she agreed that Kath always takes great care of her appearance. My problem at that first meeting was that I could not hear her. My poor hearing and the softness of her voice created the ‘perfect storm’.