Shortly before my mother’s final illness, I went to spend Christmas with her and my sister in the North of England. To celebrate, my sister found a hotel for us to stay in the Lake District for a few nights.
The Lake District in winter is magical. That particular winter gave us a dusting of snow which showed off the beauty of the surrounding countryside. The whiteness of the snow etched in details of tree limbs, hummocky grass and the edges of the water. I cannot now remember exactly where we stayed, but it was one of those English Mansions-turned-hotel. Our room had a lovely view over the lake.
I’ve always remembered that holiday as it was the last time Mum was able to enjoy herself.
