“I think about this now, looking around at all the things that I suppose are designed to help residents retain a feeling of identity and belonging, and wonder if my mum denied herself more than just blood from anything “higher” than a pig while I was growing up. There’d been nothing in our house that we’d had just because my mum liked it; nothing that stood as a memento of her human life, her life in Malaysia. Everything was about convenience, not her taste or personality.”
