In the morning an old friend, Trine, comes over for coffee. I met her on the street the other day and invited her. We haven’t seen each other for a long time. We were students at the same time at the same university. Many years later I had a lot to do with her when she was a member of the municipal council and I was part of the group that supported the councillors of our party. That was more than 20 years ago. We have a lot of information to exchange: personal facts, like how her three daughters are doing, but also about our own activities. She is still engaged in some local affairs. One of them is about a new museum to be established in our city. National and local government both have a say in the plans so the matter is rather complicated. They want to build it in a very central spot, where there are now buildings that look rather neglected, but she tells me they are owned by the mafia. In the centre of the city, on the doorstep of our national Parliament! Imagine!
We also discuss the last years of our mothers, which were difficult in both cases.
We wonder what will happen to us, when we get very old and cannot take care of ourselves any more. She has been confronted recently by some very tragic instances of people who needed help but did not get any. In one case the argument was: as long as you can have a dog and take care of it you do not need any formal care yourself!