Thursday 15th August

It is true, what they say about growing old; that you become more and more like children.  My parents are eighty and eighty two, and on this trip were like little children; willing to be led by the hand, literally at times, rewarded for good behaviour with food and glasses of wine, and wanting to be tucked up in bed before the adults.  We are home and they are safe.

But it has also been a worry, in the same way as children on a holiday are a worry; I too was worried about my parents.  My Dad is recovering from leukemia,and has stopped playing golf and now just plays a few games of indoor bowls in the winter; and he was such an active sportsman, excelling at golf, cricket, tennis and swimming.  I did manage to induce him into swimming in the lake at Lougratte, and although the water was really warm, he thought it was cold.

My mother has been the bane of my early life, a fiery temper and a very dominant woman.  Now she is old and infirm, has a constant backache, complains of headaches and every minor ailment is commented upon.  I tried to keep her walking, and she admitted that though tired, she did feel much better for it.  But she walks so slow, it is almost painful keeping by her side.

I am early sixties and suffer from no ailments at all, but wonder how soon I will deteriorate.  I look at them and see myself in twenty years time, and hope I am in better shape.

Also keeping them amused, especially in the hot afternoons was trying.  But we got there, and hopefully this will be the first of many trips they will make.  Hopefully though with my sister, as at least the responsibility will be shared.