Very soon, this is how I'll be greeted too.
Dad has a habit of sneezing while he's eating. He'll get so far into his meal or snack and then the sniffing starts. As soon as I see him fumbling around for his hanky I know it's time to take cover. He always has a clean hanky in his pocket but when we go out I tell him to put it in his jacket pocket to make it easier to find. He does this but STILL will struggle to reach his trouser pocket underneath his jacket looking for it when it's needed. "It's in your jacket dad," I say...again. Trouble is, he doesn't always reach for the hanky and he'll sneeze where he sits. If it was just a little sneeze then it wouldn't be too bad but it's close to implosion...every time. I don't always catch him on time when we are in the house but I try to be on full alert when we are out. Halfway through his bakewell tart I could see his eyes closing and his nose twitch. "Hanky dad!" I say, but it's almost too late so I hand him the napkins instead. Better being armed and ready to prevent the table next to us being sandblasted. This is why I no longer buy him a sugar doughnut! 😆
................................................
Another day has passed since I started writing this post. It's the weekend, and although the days are the same as any other, I spend it making sure the laundry is up to date and look forward to relaxing in the evening watching TV...no DVD's. Dad was up pretty early so I got him sorted and settled so that I could spend some time working on cake stuff at the kitchen table. Dad was happy to be entertained by Columbo and I welcomed back James Bond for a while. Variety is the spice of life!
I was able to watch a movie on Netflix from my laptop and work at the same time. Even though the pause button is the most worn out on my keyboard I won't complain. Every now and again I'd cast dad a glance and he'd smile and say, "You're awfy busy!"
Stopping for lunch, I sat with him while he made the usual comments during Columbo. There is so much bad editing and dad notices every single mistake...and gets annoyed. Like, Columbo taking a bowl and a cheese grater out of a cupboard to grate some cheese. But you can see the grated cheese already in the bowl as he takes it from the cupboard. Also, the empty whisky glass only to be half filled again in the next shot. Now and again I'll shake things up by getting in there with a comment first. "Did you see that dad? That glass was empty before!" I'll say. "Aye..." he'll say, followed by various reasons why it gets his back up. Sometimes what he says makes no sense either but I allow him to vent and shake his head. I follow it with "You're right," or "I know." Makes life easier.
I have to watch what I say so I don't put ideas into his head that may (or may not) end well. Avoid sentences that start with "I'll have to go and...." followed by "do" or "sort" and most definitely "fix". Such sentences are almost an invitation for disaster. I find it difficult not to talk out loud sometimes and this is as close to indepth conversation as it gets.
After lunch I start washing up the dishes. I have some sugar pieces laying around drying out on the worktops so using water close by needs care taken. As soon as dad hears the dishes in the sink he's behind me looking for a dish towel. He just wants to help. "Just let them dry on their own dad," I say. "There's only a few." "Okay," he replies.
He looks out of the kitchen window at the sun shining and the washing blowing on the line. "A good drying day, isn't it? I'll need to bring that washing in I think." (NOOOOO!)
Next thing he's at the back door and I've no real excuse to give him for not venturing outside. Before I am able to dry my hands properly, he's standing at the washing line reaching up to take the clothes down. Not such a hard task you might think, but the back garden is chipped and I might as well put dad in roller skates than let him walk on the stones. He doesn't lift his feet properly on any surface. Shuffling on stones doesn't serve him well...or my heart! The washing is thankfully just a little bit damp so I'm able to tell him that I'm going to leave it hanging there for a while yet. I'm by his side as he makes to turn around and go back inside. He needs my arm to hold on to. If I wasn't there he might have made it back onto the flat slabs or even indoors. This isn't a chance I will take. Allowing dad to have as much independence without being overly cautious isn't always easy. My tongue is like a sieve, I've bitten it so much. No matter what, I'm always on call.
Worrying about him having a fall...reminds me of an 'incident' at Costa on Friday. I was making my way back to our table with tray in hand. I was so concentrated on the tray that I didn't notice a large labrador sprawled under a table with a paw outstretched which obstructed my path. I narrowly escaped going arse over tit. "Sorry!" said the trainer. Yeah...trainer. How ironic that I didn't see a "Guide Dog for the blind in training".
The presence of my dad helps me to maintain my dignity as I respond "It's okay. No worries," in a mouse voice. Inwardly boiling "FFS!!"
..........................................
It's Sunday...a day of rest....eventually.
................................................
Another day has passed since I started writing this post. It's the weekend, and although the days are the same as any other, I spend it making sure the laundry is up to date and look forward to relaxing in the evening watching TV...no DVD's. Dad was up pretty early so I got him sorted and settled so that I could spend some time working on cake stuff at the kitchen table. Dad was happy to be entertained by Columbo and I welcomed back James Bond for a while. Variety is the spice of life!
I was able to watch a movie on Netflix from my laptop and work at the same time. Even though the pause button is the most worn out on my keyboard I won't complain. Every now and again I'd cast dad a glance and he'd smile and say, "You're awfy busy!"
Stopping for lunch, I sat with him while he made the usual comments during Columbo. There is so much bad editing and dad notices every single mistake...and gets annoyed. Like, Columbo taking a bowl and a cheese grater out of a cupboard to grate some cheese. But you can see the grated cheese already in the bowl as he takes it from the cupboard. Also, the empty whisky glass only to be half filled again in the next shot. Now and again I'll shake things up by getting in there with a comment first. "Did you see that dad? That glass was empty before!" I'll say. "Aye..." he'll say, followed by various reasons why it gets his back up. Sometimes what he says makes no sense either but I allow him to vent and shake his head. I follow it with "You're right," or "I know." Makes life easier.
I have to watch what I say so I don't put ideas into his head that may (or may not) end well. Avoid sentences that start with "I'll have to go and...." followed by "do" or "sort" and most definitely "fix". Such sentences are almost an invitation for disaster. I find it difficult not to talk out loud sometimes and this is as close to indepth conversation as it gets.
After lunch I start washing up the dishes. I have some sugar pieces laying around drying out on the worktops so using water close by needs care taken. As soon as dad hears the dishes in the sink he's behind me looking for a dish towel. He just wants to help. "Just let them dry on their own dad," I say. "There's only a few." "Okay," he replies.
He looks out of the kitchen window at the sun shining and the washing blowing on the line. "A good drying day, isn't it? I'll need to bring that washing in I think." (NOOOOO!)
Next thing he's at the back door and I've no real excuse to give him for not venturing outside. Before I am able to dry my hands properly, he's standing at the washing line reaching up to take the clothes down. Not such a hard task you might think, but the back garden is chipped and I might as well put dad in roller skates than let him walk on the stones. He doesn't lift his feet properly on any surface. Shuffling on stones doesn't serve him well...or my heart! The washing is thankfully just a little bit damp so I'm able to tell him that I'm going to leave it hanging there for a while yet. I'm by his side as he makes to turn around and go back inside. He needs my arm to hold on to. If I wasn't there he might have made it back onto the flat slabs or even indoors. This isn't a chance I will take. Allowing dad to have as much independence without being overly cautious isn't always easy. My tongue is like a sieve, I've bitten it so much. No matter what, I'm always on call.
Worrying about him having a fall...reminds me of an 'incident' at Costa on Friday. I was making my way back to our table with tray in hand. I was so concentrated on the tray that I didn't notice a large labrador sprawled under a table with a paw outstretched which obstructed my path. I narrowly escaped going arse over tit. "Sorry!" said the trainer. Yeah...trainer. How ironic that I didn't see a "Guide Dog for the blind in training".
The presence of my dad helps me to maintain my dignity as I respond "It's okay. No worries," in a mouse voice. Inwardly boiling "FFS!!"
..........................................
It's Sunday...a day of rest....eventually.
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