
Since we l;ast spoke ive turned 50, my daughter turned 18, my Dad suffered another mini stroke, and travelled from his cosy little cottage hospital where he could see his wife for an hour a day, into a massive city infirmary where he couldn’t. And in the words of my Mum (confirmed racist)
“He came out looking like the Taliban”
Her words, not mine, and i suspect she wasn’t making a compliment. Anyway, he’s back in the cottage hospital now, transported over last night under the cover of darkness, and gearing himself up for another attack of the death Ray. Poor Dad. Mum saw him today and he’s aged in the weeks he’s been inside. I suppose in the past Team my folks have bumbled on in the place they call home, knowing where the trip hazards are and accepting that their world is closing down around them, but with 2 acres of garden and field to wander around in, I guess they probably don’t want for anything else. Until they can’t wander any more. And in the past week when Dad has been in the hole, he’s done nothing, aside from look at the walls and weep, thats no fucking life. Having said that, hes back in the little hospital and he’s chuffed to bits, the nurses aren’t leaving him alone.
You don’t know what you’ve got till its gone.
You know when you wake up thinking of something? Well thats what I’ve been doing for the last 3 or 4 weeks, thinking of Dad, and Mum and wandering how i’m going to steer this ship onwards trying to avoid the flak from Mum, who, when I suggest trying to get a plan in order for the future, kicks off. she’s scarred, I get that, and i’m going to try my best to get her/ them to move over here if its possible, but dad can’t move his right side at all now, getting old is shit anyway, but with the restrictions its worse, much worse. If he has another problem he’ll be back in the Royal, and I won’t be able to see him, and I don’t think he’ll get back out.
But in more cheerful news for my 50th I was given some record decks and a mixer, i’ve got mood lighting and some peculiar tunes to dive into, some fantastic beers from NZ and a healthy 18 year old daughter whom I shared my birthday and it has to be noted, hasn’t yet bought me a pint! Maybe next week eh?
I feel weird saying “happy” birthday under these circumstances so I’ll say, kind wishes to you.
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Thanks mate, not how I expected my 50th to turn out, but I think the pandemic has knocked a bit of vim out of me too. I’d quite like a holiday!
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You are a young man then, my boys are 48. Happy birthday son.
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A very happy birthday to you. I hope you get to spend some time with your parents.
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