A visit to see my Dad

I hate to say it but it wasn't a great success overall in going to see my dad.  By that I mean that there isn't a lot to say at the moment and there isn't anything revealing or earth shattering about his terminal disease and my visit.  Strong words?  Not really, just the fact that apart from dad looking older not much else changes, we do the pleasantries and we pass the time of day but things are mush as they ever were and we chat like families do, see how we are all getting along together and that's about it really.  It's not what I thought it would be - not that I've really thought about what I thought it would be, I just thought it would be different.


I complained about my dad some 18 months ago as he was distracted by the TV during one of my visits and today the TV was on non stop from the moment we arrived until the moment we left.   I'm guessing that 4 of us (not the normal 2) is difficult to deal with but in many ways it was pretty much an unusual situation for the whole of us to be together.  I'm sure that the visit was appreciated and it is maybe just me not feeling great about it.


We've never been a family to do much more that have a chat, we aren't particularly cuddly or kissy - I've noticed that it's something we've never really done.  So it's all a bit stilted and like some Jane Austen novel :-)  No really it is quite an effort, we chit chat and do the formalities but essentially, that's where it stays, we discuss health and so on but invariably its the same old thing and I feel sometimes as if I am "doing my duty" rather than anything else.


In many ways, the problem I suppose is one surrounding how would you meet your end?  I don't see my dad having a bucket list or anything like it, no ambitions, no regrets (I hope he doesn't have any - I hope not - but we wouldn't discuss that anyway).  I think that he will continue to sit and watch TV, potter around the house and stay within the confines of the house and garden until time comes and takes its course.  It isn't my life and it isn't my call.  It is his life and his call and that's the be all and end all of it.  My brother doesn't always get that and he probably never will, his own situation will not allow it.


Somehow, I've got to come to terms with it myself - you see I still feel a bit heartless and a bit uncaring and find that it isn't because I'm like that, it's just that it is the way it has always been.  I've seen my parents more often in the last 6 months than I've seen them in the last 6 years.  I find that I'm building up a bit of guilt, getting arranged to go and see them and then finding that it was a bit of a let down in a way.  I hope they don't feel that but in a way what am I actually achieving?  A bit of moral support for the folks which is fine.  A bit of light relief for my mum, she needs it as he is very demanding (always was but is more so now).  


Then I get home and I feel like sh1t too, there's nothing changing here no revelation no insight-fullness no completion no conclusion, no closure.  That's the absurdity of the situation, I see someone who is heading for the conclusion of their life and that's it really - the outlook was for him to die around about now and yet he is far from that I think, he is doing OK, weak of course but steady at the moment with the palliative operation being successful, the diabetes under control and diet and everything else is now in balance and control.  Freedom from the house has been removed by surrendering the car - and rightly so - there was no way that he could drive it and where would they go in it?  He doesn't want to go anywhere - although we got him to the supermarket and back, that's it.  


I pile the guilt on to myself and yet things are out of my control entirely.  I thought today as we made our way up in the fog and mist towards my parents, a more out of the way place in the middle of nowhere at all you couldn't wish to find - if you were helplessly lost you'd never get as far away as this place.  What on earth made them up sticks and be so far away and in such a miserable place (I suppose us city folk find the remote wilderness they call countryside in the damp, cold and fog could be called miserable!).


If there was an upside to this it was that we went to our favourite farm shop and we stocked a boot full of vegetables for just £13.  I got a 15Kg bag of Carrots which should keep me in juice for a little while plus some raw beets (yes I know to watch out for those...) and loads of other stuff too.  Looking forward to having a juicing fest this week.