Reflexions on ageing

I'm working like mad and I don't have time to think, let alone write this blog!
Not only payed work, although that also counts, but the free, unacknowledged and unpaid job that most women do to keep the home running smoothly and everybody happy.
The fact that my elderly dad is living with us adds a lot more that I expected to my daily chores. He aged a lot in the few month he's been in Argentina and now he really looks elderly.
Age's taking its toll and he's clumsier than ever and a lot more work than he used to be. Not only do I have more laundry or extra dishes to clean but because he's at home almost all day long, there's more tidying up to do, more trips to the supermarket to get food and so on. His present also limit our range of activities as a family because he cannot walk a lot (he walks with a cane and his knees give him a lot of pain) so we have to plan things around him. I also have to help him register with the council, find him a GP and so forth. In theory he can do most things by himself as there's no language problem but with age and physical actual loss of mobility, of hearing and poor vision also came a loss of self confidence and he's less able to do things by himself.
He's also less bothered by appearances and dress appallingly bad. I don't mean that he's not coordinating his colours but that he doesn't see or mind stains on his clothes and things like that. Also his table manners are atrocious and he need to be remained to use the napkin or to stop talking with a full mouth. My son started to use his Grandpa's behaviour on the table as an excuse to eat like a pig himself and I cringe every time we go out to eat with friends because my dad is spilling half his tapas down his chin and on his shirt.
He's also doing that thing old people do when they seem to live of past memories and that the present is somehow boring and colourless compared with their past. He keeps on telling the same stories over and over and when we have company he always talk to much and make up this fantastic and widely exaggerated stories in which he's always the hero. This is not new and this uses to make my mum who was an extremely private and discreet person, cringe. Now it's my turn to cringe when I hear the old stories but with more bombastic details.

(well... now you know where I come from with my own storytelling!! It just run in the family)

"The husband", who truly loves my dad, is very gracious with him and the situation and keep on telling me that I have to recognise that at his grand age of 80-something he's allowed to be clumsy and people don't mind. He said that in fact, my dad is extremely entertaining and make people laugh and wonder with his ability as a storyteller and that the stories are truly great when you hear them for the first time. He adds that people sort of expect old people to be like that and I that it made me cringe because I want my old young and strong dad back.
I think he's mostly right but I cannot help feeling bewildered by this old, weak, clumsy man being the strong, active and resourceful dad that I remember.

It looks as if life make people go around the full circle and in old age they need to be taken care of and protected in a similar way to young kids. Is a biter-sweet feeling to be taken care of my father. On one hand I'm glad he's still with us at all and I love to have him here, but on the other hand... I want to be forever his daughter and don't like to see him going downhill.

In Latin societies old people are expected to live with their families for ever and is considered a sort of betrayal to send your parents away. It's very nice to see whole families strolling down the Ramblas or having an ice cream on a Sunday's afternoon here in Sabadell, that something you don't often see in England. And I'm glad that we can do that with my dad and that P. has a chance to live with his colourful Granddad.
But... I'm also glad that he's gone half of the year!!
After my mum died, we had a family meeting and decided that the best course of action was for my dad to spend half the year in Argentina living at my sister's house, and half a year with me in Spain. As we live in different hemispheres, it's always spring and summer for my lucky dad!
This arrangement with my sister is going totally great as it keeps my dad active and entertained and it's not a huge full time responsibility for neither my sister or me. There's always somebody missing my dad and he's always looking forward to whatever comes next.