Anthony was home for most of today and, for a couple of hours, he was okay and mobile and trying to do some jobs, and he and Son got the Aga lit. Eventually! Teenagers (Son) and geriatrics (Husband/Anthony) don’t always agree on these things. And, it struck me, as I withdrew from their Aga-lighting tiff, how amazing that my two ‘boys’ – this father and son who look exactly like each other but who have an age difference of nearly 60 years – can communicate at all.
After a lunch of doner kebabs, which Anthony used to love but couldn’t manage because his hands don’t work so well any more, everything went a bit downhill and Son withdrew as Anthony became more and more crippled up. His morning drugs for Parkinson’s seem to work well, but by early afternoon it became a predictable downhill slide and by 4.30pm he was more than ready to go back to the nursing lodge.
None of the things I had planned eventuated. I wanted to show Anthony the latest blogposts, which he usually loves, but he said he was too busy for that even though he was just sitting in the armchair near me, drinking a cup of tea. He wanted to sweep some of the bird crap away from the back door, even though Son and I had already done this, so I walked him outside very slowly with his walking stick, saying ‘1,2,3’ which usually gets his legs working. Eventually I put the straw broom in his hands and told him that if he fell over I would kill him, and left him out there to try. And while I watched through the window, he did a little bit of a sweep and then froze, head down, unable to move; this is Parkinson’s.
On the way back to the nursing lodge, Anthony was a bit incoherent and seemed to be having another ‘turn’ but then he suddenly said, “Jules, when you bring me home tomorrow, can’t I stay the night?” and I had to, once again, say it was too hard, he was too heavy etc. He accepted this and my guts twirled with how horribly humiliating for this man who used to be such a macho machine to have to ask me if he could sleep in his own home.
So, tonight, having rung Anthony to say goodnight, and having fed Son who is now milking cows again for the beautiful neighbours, I am unpleating the day and wondering if I could have done it better, wondering if I should be crying, wondering and wondering and wondering….
jmgoyder 