Categories: uncategorized
Date: 02 May 2006 21:13:01
It was odd tonight. I spotted, in the pocket of my dressing gown, the keyring which holds the key to Dad's back door - the one I use first thing in the morning when I go to wake him and then last thing at night when I've tucked him into bed. I saw it the other day too, when I was pottering around at 6am wondering how I usually fill the time in the morning before school and felt suddenly tearful at the thought that I probably would not have to be up so early in future. Tonight the same lump in the throat, this time because I think I am going to be needing it more.
Dad's doing remarkably well. Remarkably well. I can't see him staying in much beyond the weekend, to be honest. Trouble is, he's still one stage weaker than he was and, more to the point, his mind is not reliable and so we don't feel that he really should be left alone in the bungalow. There is to be a family support meeting at the hospice this week to see how they can help us manage Dad's illness at home during the next stage.
It was lovely just to sit with him for an hour or so this afternoon and have him more lucid. We chatted as I showed him some photographs, but the best moment,.... and the hardest... was when he went sleepy and I mentioned I felt tired too after my day at work. He lifted his arm and, just as I used to, I snuck in underneath and rested my head on his chest as he put his arm round me. We stayed like that for ages, a gentle father-daughter embrace (though with me frantically fighting the tears, of course) and rested together, only occasionally interspersing it with a quiet exchange like when his tummy rumbled.
They've taken the syringe driver out. We were rather amused as he's having word-finding difficulties and we were quite concerned for a moment when he said "I've lost my spirit guide". Of course, he was thinking of spirit level.. which still wasn't quite the right word but you can see the resemblance.