15th August 2007 - the Ides of August

I went to see Dad this afternoon with Ellie. I'd decided a few days ago to try and wean myself off going every day - or at least not 6 times a week. I'd decided to start going every second day or to leave if two days without any visit. So, I hadn't been in the previous two days. He looked awful. Grey in the face, haggard and drawn, wafer paper fragile. When we found him he was in one of the corridors, leaning against the handrail, his head in his hands. He didn't react to my shouts of "Dad" nor Ellie's "Grandad's". When we reached him I touched his arm and he looked at me, focussing his mind on trying to interpret what he was seeing. I don't know if he knew that I was me and that Ellie was his grandchild but he knew he recognised us, his eyes filled with tears and they rolled freely down his face as he raised his arms to try and embrace us. He was unsteady and almost fell, so I steadied him and we got through to the day room for a seat. When I spoke to one of the staff I was told he'd not been himself the last couple of days, and had even refused all food and drink from that morning. It was as if he was protesting, he'd thought I'd deserted him, so he was shutting down and giving up. I can't cut down how often I go, I'll have to go back to going 5 or 6 times a week.