Nov.5/98
I am taking Oreo to my sister's place in London, since she has a dog business and can give me ånew owner' pointers. So decided to see dad tonight before leaving. He seemed tired and had a runny nose, so I just talked to him, trying to get through from time to time. What happens...I return Sunday evening with the beginnings of the flu. It never fails; Dad makes me sick and it should be the other way around! I have been sick all week; the doctor put dad on antibiotics on Wednesday because his chest was so congested. Hopefully this is the only bout this winter...for both of us.

Nov.15/98
Finally got to see dad today after illness and a computer crash on Friday the 13th! He was in his doorway; he finally recognized me and I got a smile. He was still terribly congested; I felt so bad for him. I gave him his dinner...he ate it all...but it was slow going as he had to chew, then breathe, then chew etc. He has lost the ability to blow his nose so I did a lot of wiping. I gave him a haircut; it's about the last ritual from the past that I can perform for him and he so enjoys it...I could probably cut his hair every day and he wouldn't mind a bit.

I talked to him about the daily events; I always mention the magazine cover (CARP) and tell him how famous he is becoming; I can always get a smile. I told him the Royal Winter Fair was on and asked him if he remembered taking us as children...we would go to the horse show (my mother and uncles rode at the fair), to the flower show, see the animals. I loved it. I turned the TV on after running out of things to say. There was a documentary on WW1 on; he seemed interested for about 10 seconds. I began to ask him about the war but didn't get any response so I quit. When I told him I was leaving I got the usual crabby look..

Nov.18/98
Today is the 12th anniversary of my mother's death. I still miss her...the years have flown by but somehow at the same time it seems so long since she's been gone.

I don't remind dad anymore; haven't for years. When I did he used to start wailing, then stop after about one minute. I could never figure it out. I went to the crematorium to visit her åbox' or ashes...so cold and sad there. Dad's place is next to hers. I was glad I had Oreo waiting in the car for me.

Nov.19 and 24/98
Took Oreo over again to see dad; she was less hyper these visits but I know she is not at ease. As much as I'd love her to become a'seniors' dog, it may not be in the cards; several residents tried to pet her and she backed away. Time will tell I guess.

Dad was better; his cold almost gone. The doctor did not show on the floor this week; I wanted him to check dad after the antibiotics were finished. I asked dad whether Oreo upset him or not; he nodded yes. So I guess I'll limit the dog visits. Dad is so quiet now; says yes, no and that's about it. Sometimes when I visit I end up just sitting because I don't know what else to do anymore. I've run out of options. Guess I'll just get travel movies and we can watch them together.

I honestly don't know where dad gets the strength to wake up each day now. I also wonder how much difference it makes to him when I visit. I do get a smile of recognition most of the time but after that it feels like I may as well not be around. I guess because we can no longer communicate I feel not needed, but I am sure some place inside him it matters that I come and tell him I love him. I hope so, not for my sake but rather for his, that he knows someone he loves still comes to see him. Every human being deserves this comfort but I see many around dad who have no-one and it is really too sad to contemplate. I continue to say hello to as many residents as I can; I hope when (if) I reach dad's age and am God knows where, that someone I love will visit me...

Nov. 29/98
Walked over without Oreo to see dad; found him in the doorway of his room with no teeth. He had just gotten up apparently (it was almost 4:00 pm); so I put his teeth in but didn't get much of a response. I told him it was Karen...he repeated my name a few times but I don't think he knew me. We went downstairs for a little while to chat with others in the foyer, no response from dad. Took him back up and suggested we look at his memory book. No interest until we hit the picture of his boyhood home in Acton; he looked in the direction of the photo and then lost interest. I turned on the TV in desperation...gave him a back rub as he was really fidgeting in his wheelchair. I left when it was his turn for dinner, didn't see the point of staying...