However, my Dad is tough nut. He is a grafter, has been all his life. In the weeks proceeding this point, he had put a new roof on our porch, refurbished a house for my brother and done more than a full weeks work every week since his 65th birthday. At this point he was 74. He had to keep busy, otherwise he would be at home. Whilst he had been married to mum for 40 odd years his place, in his mind, was out at work.
He did recover. He spent a long time time in hospital and rehab is still ongoing.
But now worse than his stroke, we have dementia. Or rather, he does. Luckily, he does not care. Even though it is advanced, he is calm and placid.
Today really brought home how bad he is. We went out for tea ( that's Wigan for dinner!) with three of grandchildren, his wife (my mum) and my husband. He repeatedly asked where we were going and if mum was coming on the way. I asked him during the meal who everyone was and he only knew me and my mum.
How sad is that?
I will try to post more tales from Clem over the months ahead. However what you must not do is feel sorry for him. He has had a fantastic life, is still married and is very content. So long as he is fed and can sleep 20 hours a day he is happy.
Oh and he does like a nice cake .
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