I've just packed dad off on the social services bus to the day centre. He never wants to go and kicks up a fuss if he knows he's going so my stepmum has a routine now of waiting till the assitant comes to the door before getting dad's coat on and bundling him out before he can get worked up. It works, and i guess it does minimise the stress and anxiety for dad. Today's the first time I've been here with him on his day centre day, and I've been dreading it - it's been really hard trying to keep myself calm and chirply so as not to stress him. He was watching The Sound of Music and singing along to Edelwiess and I was trying not to cry. I feel so guilty - in effect we're taking advantage of his confusion and manipulating him but I know it's for the best. He probably does enjoy it when he gets there, but he doesn't like the idea of going. And I never thought I'd see my dad helped onto a social services bus and driven off like that - he was alway so self sufficient and independent it does feel dreadful that now he's so easily duped into going off on a bus when he doesn't want to go. Last night I wrote a long letter to the staff about my dad - they have a little book they write in for my stepmum, and she can write messages in it for them, and I decided to tell them about my dad. He can't even do a jigsaw now with huge pieces in it, but he stripped the engine of my car down to the last nut and bolt and cleaned it when it broke down, and put it all back together and made my car keep running for years. I know they realise that but I want them to know who my dad was before this evil disease began to eat his mind up. And I know I have to stick to the routine for my step mum so that it doesn't make it harder for her, so there's no way I wouldn't have sent him off today even though this week hasn't been remotely as hard as I was expecting it to be and I could happily have spent another day with him. But the guilt and the loss is unbearable. He asked if I was coming with him and I did think about it but again, it's not fair to disrupt the routine. And then I realised I've packed him off without his glasses. And even though we didn't get on at all and rowed badly and hardly had any conversation before this, I miss him so much. I stood and waved as the bus went off because it's important to him he always stands and waves. I pasted on a big cheery grin and waved and came back in the house and sobbed. And it's only going to get worse not better. Still at least I guess even now in the depths of this horrible disease, he's still digging his heels in and fighting back like the stubborn old sod he always was so that's something. And as he was heading out the door he put his cap on backwards and waited with a silly grin for the bus chap to laugh (which is a thing he does - putting things on his head for a laugh - and he's always done it) so really he's pretty fine and will be okay. But I still feel like Judas Judas Judas. I gave him a kiss as he went. Why does this have to happen to people? What an evil thing to do to take away someone's mind like this. Anyway thanks for listening - I just needed to get that off my chest. I don't feel any better but otherwise I'd have burst, and I have stuff to do today so I need to get it together now.