On Wednesday this week, I went to see my Dad. I’m doing my best to pop in as much as I can, even if it’s just twice a week. It’s much less than I’d like to be visiting – working one job, running a business and our boys needing us a lot means that I’m feeling very guilty about not seeing him more. I expected that he have his head down. I expected that he wouldn’t show any signs of knowing me. Because that’s how it’s been for a good couple of weeks now.
And so, to have this, the video below, happen. Well, I’m sobbing again now, just thinking about it. I hope, I pray that my Dad really knew me. That he knew who I was. That his words were true. God. I want him to know me.
I really miss my Dad. But it’s actually quite selfish of me to want him to know me. Because when he knows me he might realise that he’s in a care home. And I know that it’s really not what he wants. I know that he was adamant that he’d never go into a care home. And this, well this life experience is definitely not what my Dad has ever felt to be reasonable. I feel so guilty that I’ve not somehow fixed it so that it doesn’t have to happen to him. My Dad and I are both huge supporters of euthanasia – of making choices for ourselves.
I took Elliott to see my Dad today. He wasn’t talking to us like he was on Wednesday. But he hugged me, after a fashion and I loved it. Elliott does so well – he wants to see his Grumpy, but is also coming to terms with it not being his Grumpy any more. It’s not football playing, fishing, naughty jokes and treats Grumpy. So I’m wondering if soon, even though he will still ask to visit my Dad, if the time is coming where it will be for the best for him to not visit him.