The Dementia Diary

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The Forgotten Fortnight

on February 14, 2012
Traditional Fish 'n' Chips

Image via Wikipedia

After a nice ‘family’ day out, during our children’s half term, husband thought it  would be good to stop in on F in L on our way home.  I agreed it would be good to get the visit out of the way, which he said was “not the attitude”.

F i L asked a number of inane questions (how to throw away rubbish, where had I put his junk mail) but then he surprised us by asking for further information regarding the motives for my mum renovating her kitchen. (We’d spoken about it a few days ago at my mum’s house)

“Am I right?  Did she say she was doing it and then moving?”  He couldn’t quite get to grips with improving a house in order to maximise its value for sale.  He was puzzled why she wouldn’t do it and still live there (which she will do for a while but is to difficult to explain to him.)

“That’s right.  I’m not sure where she will live though.  Maybe Scotland.  Maybe Spain.” I replied

“If she moves to the continent you can visit for holidays.  That will be good.”

“We already do.  She has a house in Spain.  You’ve been there, 4 years ago, for a fortnight!”

“I have?”

Husband and I were incredulous.

That fortnight, where F i L had been invited only for ONE of the weeks but invited himself for both weeks, almost led to the end of our marriage, such was the strain of having him with us.  The journey from check in to gate at the airport was a story worthy of a novel itself.  His lack of knowledge of world events and sense of appropriateness almost led to me leaving him behind after just 1.5 hours!

He was infuriating for the whole trip but to tell all of the events would take too long so here I have written the highlights:

  • “This is very exotic!” – sitting in a restaurant eating fish and chips and drinking a Shandy
  • 100 degrees out and initially wearing a coat out because it was cloudy, then refusing to wear sun cream because “You can’t tell me about the sun.  I served with the RAF in the desert!”
  • Moving the car mirrors while I was driving on the motorway
  • Telling husband that he is not allowed to see a particular friend.  “He’s a bad influence!”    No.3 Son is a much worse influence and husband was 42 years at this point!
  • “How would you like your burger cooked sir?” “Nicely”
  • At the water park –  “Look at the size of her!  She could stand to lose a few pounds” as a larger ENGLISH speaking lady walked by
  • Washing his underwear in the sink each night at 3am

So after the holiday from hell, which we went through as we wanted to do something nice for him and it could have been his last proper holiday, and after potential divorce, he doesn’t even remember this holiday.  The shame of it is WE would desperately like to forget it but can’t.


One response to “The Forgotten Fortnight

  1. […] Yesterday’s visit was much as predicted, with me having to explain how F i L gets his pension paid into his bank account (he forgets this every day) so I thought today I would expand on one of the ‘Holiday from Hell’ stories (The Forgotten Fortnight). […]

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