Boy talk...

In early October I spent a weekend visiting my Dad. We had finally found a new care home for him, Vale House in Oxford; and he moved in a few weeks ago. And it really is lovely. It's a specialist nursing dementia place run as a charity (as opposed to many which are businesses) and the care and the leadership are beyond anything I have ever seen in a care home before. It was designed by an architect who had a parent there and is full of very thoughtful touches. It's also a truly inspirational place to be inside; full of compassion, understanding and happiness. They really understand and they really care.

And now he's calm. After months of agitation, emotion and agression, he's finally calm...and so am I. I had a very lovely time seeing him and staying with my brother, but it was also very tough. I said everything I needed to and, whilst I'm not sure he knew who I was, we shared many giggles and memories. I saw three very different Dad's - tearful, giggling and peaceful. But most important was the latter. I left having sat outside holding his hand, with the sun on our faces sharing the warmth of the early autumn air. He nodded off quite regularly and was very calm. I left feeling overwhelming peace and grateful that I had that time with him.

"Peace is always beautiful."
Walt Whitman