We return home to our ageing and ailing families. L spends Tuesday afternoon with her Dad who isn't breathing very well and doesn't seem to know anybody is there.
She is back there on Wednesday while my brother and I are meeting a Care Coordinator to discuss my Dad's care. I take the Lad with me with his tea and his dog training gear just in case we don’t get home but it doesn’t take as long as we expect. I get time to head over to pick L up from the care home and take her home before doing the A50 again to dog training.
L spends the rest of the week, off and on, at the care home. The prognosis for her Dad is grim. Things don't get any easier when on Friday we get my Dad back from my brother. He now has bad diarrhoea because he’s been on laxatives. That’s not pleasant to deal with.
I do manage to get my Dad to the match in a wheelchair place as Derby lose their 7th game in a row. It is there that L calls me just before kick-off time, although I can barely hear her due to the crowd noise, to tell me that her Dad has sadly passed away.
Later that evening the whole family toast the great man in their own homes with wine or Guinness and\or a dog if they have one.
Daughter returns home elated from her skiing trip to be greeted by the sad news but we do finally get to meet her elusive mate. We have Chinese takeaway all round to go with the toasts.
On Sunday I drive my Dad back home where carers will now start coming to look after him. L and I then go and get slaughtered in the Plough.
(Sunday 2nd February)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment