Me and Mum: I worried about her constantly
The smell of gas hit me as soon as I walked through the door.
Not again, I thought.
Hurrying into the kitchen I turned off the hob.
It was September 2017 and I was living with my mum Joan, then 83, along with my son Jacob, then 19.
I found Mum watching telly in the living room.
‘You left the gas on again,’ I said.
‘Did I?’ she replied, puzzled. ‘I didn't use the hob today.’
This wasn't the first time.
Working shifts as a dental technician, I was out every day. Jacob at school.
I'd come home to find
