25th May 2007 - Bedroom arrangements

He tried to fondle me today. I know he thought I was my Mum, I know he wasn't trying to fondle his daughter but as he leered into me, licked, then puckered his lips and raised his hand towards my left boob I was appalled. I hope my disgust didn't show in my face - I hope he didn't think his wife was recoiling from him, revolted by his touch. I hope he didn't realise it was me too - he'd be disgusted with himself.

Earlier in the visit one of the housekeeping staff had been talking to us at our table. Shouting questions at him "Who's this then? Who's this come to visit you?". She knows who I am, but seemed to think it helpful to quiz Dad about me. He couldn't remember my name or who I was so she shouted answers for him "This is your daughter. Your big grown up daughter." He looked at me through his foggy eyes, trying to focus, not focus his eyes so much as his brain. Trying to place me, trying to slot my face into his hall of memories, his mental portait gallery. Unfortunately the older I get, the more I look like my Mum. Not remarkably so, but the underlying resemblance is more marked the older I get.

When the housekeeper left Dad asked me "What are we going to do about the bedroom arrangements?". With a certain degree of trepidation I asked what he meant, but before he could formulate an answer I said "You have your bedroom here Dad. I have my one at home. All your things are here, in your own room". "And you want it to stay that way do you? That's fine by you from now on?" he asked he face showing the all too familiar expression of resigned disappointment he often wore when I was growing up. He'd always let me know he was disappointed without actually saying so.
"Yes, that's fine by me" I said. I felt I was being cruel but what could or should I have done I wonder.

But I do hope he knew on some level that it was me who had visited. I think he did as as I was going out the door he said "I want to say truck but that's not it... Van... no lorry. I want to say lorry". He was sorry. I kissed his cheek and patted his face "It's ok Dad, it's part of the illness. I'll see you tomorrow".