Yesterday I played the odd -one -out game.

I sat in a room with three other ladies; and I was the only one with hair.

They were all drifting through varying states of sleep and I gently woke my beloved aunty with a tiny squeeze to her fragile hand.

Her hands have always been important to her - I guess she felt it was important to have nice hands with which to serve people with food and drink.

I was visiting her on a bright Sunday morning and had brought with me a supply of her favourite hand cream, the one whose scent transported me momentarily back to childhood.

The room was light, and the atmosphere warm and caring, nothing like the hospice of my imagination.

As the visit progressed I realised that one of the ladies was fully aware of where and how she was, as she subjected her husband to questions as to what he had and hadn't done around the house in her absence! The other lady, bless her, was conscious only of her pain; and my aunt was experiencing moments of lucidity.

We talked about the flowers surrounding her bed; and how sunny and warm it looked in the pretty garden we could see through the window.

We talked about her sons and totalled up the number of great grandchildren she now has by recalling the photographs she has on the mantelpiece in her lounge, at home.

Then we started talking about the times we had shared; when, as she explained it, her life 'all came together'.

My aunty started to play a more significant role in my life when she married and started to run her own pub/restaurant. I was around in school holidays to help out around the place and learn from her.

When I asked her how old she was at that time, I learned that she was the age I now am...and it was then that I experienced my first lucid moment of the day.

The level of my consciousness was raised by the realisation that time does march on to its own beat; and the only way to utilise your time is to regard it as the precious commodity it really is. If we all constantly remained at this state of consciousness I'm sure the only crime ever committed would be that of slipping into a state of complacency.

I awoke early this Monday morning with that thought firmly in my mind and roused my sleeping children, all in varying states of dishevelled grumpiness, with a kiss and a smile.