I am girding my loins before going to Legoland tomorrow. It is going to be awful, and I am going to hate it, but I've promised DS. He was being a right little sh1t the past few days, and I almost said he couldn't go to LL, but then had a parenting realisation, and asked him if he was worried about anything, such as going back to school. And yes, he is. His old teacher has gone, and the horrid boys are still there. I promised him mummy was sorting it all out. Since that convo, he's been back to his old lovely self.
Re fathers and dementia, I have the same situation, as crepeys passim will know. He's now 87, and every time I see him there's a little bit less of the old dad there. I cannot bear the sadness, and instead get petulant and impatient. Then there'll be little bursts of sunshine through the cloud, when he's just like old dad, and it moves me almost to tears. Then I cry all the way home in the car. It's awful missing someone while they're still alive.