I am still pretty busy here but we're getting something of a routine going and organising some external support too. I will try to do a full report at some stage this week!
Comment added in May:
Gordon and Margaret went home on Monday 19th. We were all very nervous about how "emotional" it would be when they said goodbye to Dad. As things turned out, Dad was fine (brave face, most likely) and poor Gordon was not. As they left, Dad said (apparently, I had done my usual running away trick) "I really enjoyed that".
I took them to the Train Station at Runcorn and went in to pick up the tickets and wait with them. As they left to go on to the platform, I got so choked that I couldn't actually say anything to them! Margaret had said her farewell earlier on - knowing that it would get difficult - and Gordon just said goodbye and thanked me for looking after them, and for all I was doing for Dad.
So, back in the car, and a quick cry before heading back to mums. En route I called at the market to drop off Dad's picture for re-framing. Roy smashed the glass when he was decorating. The picture had some sentimental value as it was one of two that mum and dad bought with money that Nana had given to them on a wedding anniversary, years ago.
The house seemed SO quiet without Gordon, Margaret and Evelyn in it. I suppose we'll get used to that.
I'm conscious that I haven't really written much about our South African relatives - but the week went so fast, and was so busy when they were here.
Auntie Margaret is lovely. Very witty, intelligent and bright. She has an unusual and addictive style of talking - I can see that I will copy it when we visit them next year, as I tend to pick up voice things like that! She beat the ass off us when playing Trivial Pursuit and does crosswords all day long. That's how clever my Auntie Margaret is.
Uncle Gordon is also lovely - quietish but isn't really, if you know what I mean. He talks and talks to Dad for hours, and then I think he comes out for a rest! He's great conversation when he gets going, interesting and also funny.
Evelyn is such an independent girl. I think we must have driven her mad by trying to mollycoddle her all the time! She never showed it though - she probably got rather bored sat im mums all day, but just got on with it (aided by lots of snacking and crosswords!).
One evening this week, I was lying on the double bed chatting to Dad (by this time he was living and sleeping in his recliner chair) and he started to talk about "after". This is code for "when I'm dead". He said he didn't want us to be one of those families who hang on to things (like a shirt, was his example) for sentimental reasons. Just get rid of it all, he said. Leave a short amount of time - 3 or 4 days - and then have a clear out. Ok, I said. We'll do that.
He also had commented on all his shoes (barely worn as he lived in trainers) and that the nice ones should go to the charity shop. Ok dad, no problem. I hated having these conversations, yet I knew how important they were to Dad so I would try to keep myself together until I'd left the room.
Writing this in May, it all seems like ages ago when this was happening - I feel quite hardened toward it all now. But I'm sure I'm not, deep down.
We had many, many conversations about Dad's financial affairs - he kept wanting to check his pensions and stuff. I think I've already written about this.
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