Today dad moves from the care home that is closing to one I found for him just outside of town. It was strange visiting it last week. I don't know why but when I walked in I felt the strangest sense of relief, as if I had found the right place at last, and I can't explain that. The home is not pristine, the road leading up to it is covered in potholes, but strangely it just felt right. It's in a beautiful area, on the edge of a village and surrounded by fields.
Dad moves today. The homes are arranging it between themselves and I don't have to do anything. The new place is going to get in touch with me if anything is needed.
I went to visit him on Saturday. I kind of wish I hadn't. The home was practically empty, most of the residents having already moved out, and dad was clearly distressed by the change. He took barely any notice of me, so determined was he to 'get out'. He was even banging on a window when I left. I just hope that he will settle in the new place after all this.
It's weird, now that he's been gone a while, I feel like I can begin to remember the man he used to be, before all this. It all got swallowed up by the dementia. I couldn't afford to remember, but now little bits are coming back- him taking me out with him when he worked as a commercial traveller, the pair of us in the kitchen cooking dinner, his jokes, the word games we used to play, his derisory comments about badly dressed people in the street
.
I went through the family albums a while back and was sad to discover there is only one photo of the two of us together. We weren't a touchy feely family, but I wanted it up in the house. I don't know why it was important. This is it (apologies for size).
Dad moves today. The homes are arranging it between themselves and I don't have to do anything. The new place is going to get in touch with me if anything is needed.
I went to visit him on Saturday. I kind of wish I hadn't. The home was practically empty, most of the residents having already moved out, and dad was clearly distressed by the change. He took barely any notice of me, so determined was he to 'get out'. He was even banging on a window when I left. I just hope that he will settle in the new place after all this.
It's weird, now that he's been gone a while, I feel like I can begin to remember the man he used to be, before all this. It all got swallowed up by the dementia. I couldn't afford to remember, but now little bits are coming back- him taking me out with him when he worked as a commercial traveller, the pair of us in the kitchen cooking dinner, his jokes, the word games we used to play, his derisory comments about badly dressed people in the street
.I went through the family albums a while back and was sad to discover there is only one photo of the two of us together. We weren't a touchy feely family, but I wanted it up in the house. I don't know why it was important. This is it (apologies for size).
