8th August 2013

Flying ant day! The buggers covered my washing that I put out on the line.

I had a call from the care home this morning. Dad had got himself worked up. He was saying I was taking his house away and his money was being taken from him. Could I go over and talk to him? Well, when I got there he was all happy as Larry, has a plan to rent out his house and that would cover the cost of the care home. I sat and talked to him, I listened, I nodded and then I cried. He doesn't remember anything that we have talked about, how he needs to be safe and how he is not going to become a property tycoon at the age of 79. We made a compromise and now he's going to win the lottery!

The physiotherapist told Dad that he wasn't strong enough to use his crutches yet. He hasn't been doing his exercises and his balance is not as good as it was. But typical Dad, he's now refusing to use his frame. He wants a miracle cure and the only person who can help him, is him. So I will just have to carry on nagging him to do his exercises.

So today I have been trying to keep my step-dad safe and on the other hand trying not to be too miserable as it's 39 years since my Dad died. The first year that I haven't spoken to mum to cheer her up as she always cried on this day. I hope another me in an alternative universe is having a good day with her mum and dad.