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.
The end of September has been spent on hooves and skates. Skating was a first for Ly, Emily has been wanting to go again for ages and Niomi is still less than sure about the slippy stuff (Tanya takes it all in her stride). Horse riding was again a first for Ly, Emily and Niomi have been wanting to go again for ages and I am still less than sure about the horsey stuff (Tanya takes it all in her stride). Man was meant to go on two legs not four if you ask me, and after my last experience a few years ago I just body swerved the whole thing. Needless to say everyone else finds that funny.
The horse incident was on a long weekend in Banchory, and aside for my equine phobia Banchory was great. I got out running (firmly on 2 legs), breathed in the air and generally kicked back against the autumn blues that had gripped me for a few weeks. There was the usual dose of being wonderfully looked after, and visits to Crathes and Banchory’s finest charity shops.
And as the nights draw in and the weather gets wilder, we’ve also all taken to preparation for the change in season with the girls preferring drawing and cooking, and us adults getting the house ready for winter – clearing out, mending, organising, bottling and pickling. Autumn like Spring are seasons of change – one to the light and one to the dark. And this bedding down is helpful for me to prepare for the hunkering down of the winter season and the impending dark. I'm ready....I think 😕
Some days just seem to go on forever. Last December I turned 50 and it feels like I’ve been celebrating my birthday ever since. I set a target to do something every month and its been quite an adventure so far.
September's offering came courtesy of our good friends Yvonne and Wilf; a trip down the road to the Spotty Dog for a touch of archery, food, fire and merry making. I was indeed like Robin Hood with my band of merry folk and we all had a cracking time (which was welcome relief from the recent intensity of things with my Dad).
And what has all this celebrating given me (apart from a few sore heads)? Well my birthday offerings have made me remember how truly blessed I am to be surrounded by many, many good people. Friendship is possibly one of the greatest gifts.
Thank you Yvonne and Wilf for being Mr and Mrs September. I was made to feel very special.
Every so often Mummy gets to go away and do things with other Mummys, and I get to be in charge of everyone (I am actually in charge all the time but I like Mummy to think she’s in control). We get to do things my way, and the house is obviously a million times better for it.
Fiction: It’ll be all do what you like, eat what you like, the kids will love me, I’ll be the best Dad in the world because it will be one big ‘YES Day!’, AND I’ll do all the laundry and clean the house.
Reality: I go into survival mode, try not to lose my rag, feed them too much sugar and pay the price, forget to do half the things I’m supposed to, AND end the weekend in a broken heap.
Maybe the truth is somewhere in between but trying to get everyone to have fun, not cannibalise each other, AND hold a semblance of normality together is harder than you think.
Act 1: Friday eve – pick kids up from school, sun is shining, we’re all ‘Woohoo – freedom!’. Phone Dominos pizza in (we never normally do that), crack open a beer and relax. Watch the Greatest Showman, popcorn and chocolate half way through. Kids love it, Ly loves it. I am a hero and everyone goes to bed – slightly later than intended but its fine. They’ll lie in.
Act 2: Saturday – Kids don’t lie in and get up tired. I’m tired too. Never mind breakfast restores things and I let them watch their tablets for a while. Ly heads to Glasgow and I try to get my act together, washing on, dishwasher emptied etc etc. Morning starts to run away from me but I get them out with a picnic, no major incidents or injuries, and the laundry is on the line. We’re off to Callendar House and Park. Arrive and eat picnic within 10 minutes. Niomi focuses on the treats causing sugar high followed by sugar crash. Playpark saves the day, except Emily now is really too old for playparks, so day not saved for her. Play trail instead, much more exciting except Niomi is mid sugar crash. Cajoling and bribery tactics fully engaged and we make it to the end for a zip line. Winner all round. Send Mummy lots of photos of happy children, playing very nicely together. Quick whizz round Callendar House – so much for furthering their education but I tried. And then ice cream revival with a dash round the lake whilst the ice cream effect is in full flow. Niomi has another sugar crash two thirds of the way round but hey we’re nearly there. And then we make it back to the van and beat a retreat. 4 hours spent well but its tough flying solo. Pizza again for dinner (leftovers) and then timely bed for Niomi. She’s done in. Emily watches film. I sit outside drinking beer and chatting to friend Liam by the fire. Great evening but will pay the price tomorrow.
Act 3: Kids wake and drag me up. Note to self – hard to be a great Dad and have a social life. Thankfully though the kids are tired so we chill out. Early lunch then off blackberry picking which is a lovely success – mainly because Ly comes along and helps entertain Niomi. Saved later by neighbour who takes us all round to help feed the foxes which inhabit his yard/allotment. Day passes surprisingly well. Send more pictures to Mummy of happy, smiling kids. Early bed. School tomorrow. Act 4: Successfully manage the school run. Surprise myself and everyone. We’re early. Think I was so worried about it that I hyper planned. Mummy returns at lunch. Normal business is resumed. I pass the being in charge test and get loads of brownie points.
Its hard though….and when you’re a single parent you really have to work at it. So whilst I like being in charge, I'm glad I can share the responsibility most of the time. Welcome back Mummy.
I generally try to keep the blog upbeat. Partly, because there's already enough bad news in the world, and partly because I believe that by actively being happy you can become happy, if you know what I mean. However, sometimes things aren't so rosy, and last week was a classic in the not so rosy stakes.
My dad is 93 and has dementia. It's been pretty rapid. Last Christmas he spent up here, mainly ok. Fast forward five months and he was to all intents and purposes lost to the world. And for the last three months he's really 'not been my dad anymore.' Yet at the same time he still is. He looks the same, sounds the same, smells the same. Yet something is missing. It's like he sits on a bridge between all that he was in his life and all that he will be in his death and beyond.
Dementia is cruel. It takes those you love and leaves just a corporeal shell. Ripping out the part that you knew, their identity. It leaves those that suffer from it broken, and those around it can break too.
But that's not the only thing that's broken. The system is. Nothing works how it did. Old mad people don't really matter anymore. Don't get me wrong, everyone does 'their bit'... But nothing works holistically. There's masses of buck passing and it's really all about budgets and who's paying. The humanity for those demented humans is lost. Last week I also felt lost, at sea in a system that doesn't seem to really care anymore, trying to fight for my Dad. We must find a way to do better for our loved ones suffering from dementia. It's a disease to be treated not a problem to be passed on.
Still, after one of my worst weeks in my 50 years there are a few lights at the end of the tunnel. After 24 care homes refused to take my Dad, now there is one that just might. And it looks lovely. There's also good folk out there trying to support families affected by dementia, and carers that do genuinely care. So fingers crossed, not everything is broken...
At the far east of Scotland lies the East Neuk of Fife. The East Neuk has some of
Scotland’s most picturesque coastline with pretty little fishing villages and
harbours interspersed with coastal cliffs, beaches and unusual rock formations
jutting out to sea. The quality of light coupled with the landscape makes for
some really stunning views, and it also claims to be the sunniest part of
Scotland – except of course when we were there.
Rain peppered our week on and
off, but we put on our brave coats and boots and made the most of our week away.
Bigger trips were to St Andrews for the Aquarium and the Barbie movie, Kellie
Castle, Hill of Tarvit and Cambo Estate, and of special note was also the
powerful and spiritual Dunino Glen. The weather cancelled our boat trip to the
Isle of May, but the East Neuk is also full of little villages to stop off like
Crail for its harbour or Elie for the beach and chainwalk. We were based in
Pittenweem and there were daily excursions seal watching, rock pooling, book
finding, crazy golfing or swimming. But just wandering the streets and enjoying
the cafes was also a lovely past time. It was our first long trip with Ly so was
good to spend the time with her, and also lovely to get out and do some coastal
running (alone) and walking (with T). And then finally the Pittenweem Arts
Festival ended our week on a wonderful high. A really interesting experience if
you’ve never been. So what started as a dull and rainy week, saw the sun emerge
and my soul soar.
And then it was over the water to North Berwick – 9 miles as
the crow flies but a two and a half hour drive for a trip to see the Gurneys and
a taste of Fringe by the Sea and the Fringe in Edinburgh. More great vibes and
sunshine. There was even a replacement boat trip to Bass Rock. The Far East was not so far and is definitely close to our hearts.
And then a spot of the World Cycling Championships road race back in Kirky, and a meal out to Non Viet (Vietnamese restaurant in Glasgow) and the summer holidays were ended with a final huzzah.
If you see one of these this summer and then the next thing you know is you suddenly cry out "ouch" (as your companion has pinched you on the arm whilst crying out "Mini-pinch"), then you've inadvertently entered into a game of Mini-pinch. Mini-pinch has become the game that's taken the Rooke family by storm this summer, and so far we have all suffered mildlly sore arms and legs as a consequence (but thankfully no fatal accidents). It's pervaded our every journey. It's also the kind of game that lulls you into a false sense of security as every time you go out on foot or in your car you forget you're actually playing till someone, normally a child, suddenly pinches your arm crying "Mini-pinch" as a Mini drives by.
Once you've got the hang of it there are also various add-ons to the basic rules:
- Tesla Tickle - Yellow Car Slap - Porsche Punch (sometimes also called Police Punch)
- Tractor Turbulance (rapid punching on arm) and, - Caravan Kick (although we don't generally use this add-on).
I think you probably get the gist, and what you need to do but please be gentle!! Any false calls are punished with a double response in return.
Good luck this summer! Once started it never ends, although it does help pass any long car journeys quite well...
Mini-pinch
Disclaimer: The author of this blog is not responsible for any injuries caused by the reading of this article.
