Just spent the whole weekend with my dad to try to assess him a bit more. Friday afternoon an old friend Albert who he has known from school turned up and they had a good long chat about things. Seems during the war there was an airfield close to their homes (now a golf course) so there was a lot of bombs dropped on this area.
It was lovely listening to them chatting and reminiscing about the fun they had. I know all about the people in their street, Dad can name them all and how they collected live shells and how my grandad used to remove the explosive bits so they could polish them up. I know all about the bomb hole they used to play in and Blackie the dog that belonged to everyone.
Dad was really eloquent and remembers it like yesterday, he had some right old stories to tell.
Fast forward to Saturday afternoon and asked him if he had seen Albert lately, his reply, "No, haven't seen him for a long time"
It is so sad. Still getting used to this.
It was lovely listening to them chatting and reminiscing about the fun they had. I know all about the people in their street, Dad can name them all and how they collected live shells and how my grandad used to remove the explosive bits so they could polish them up. I know all about the bomb hole they used to play in and Blackie the dog that belonged to everyone.
Dad was really eloquent and remembers it like yesterday, he had some right old stories to tell.
Fast forward to Saturday afternoon and asked him if he had seen Albert lately, his reply, "No, haven't seen him for a long time"
It is so sad. Still getting used to this.