Dad, St. Clair, Dunedin
And so, I am finding my rhythm, in this new life living with my Dad. He’s 82 and was struggling alone.
Slowly we are developing routines, I’m learning what food he likes. He has his ‘office’, through in the lounge with the tv. I had my ‘office’, here in the kitchen … back door open, all set up at the kitchen table he had long since stopped using.
Friday was sunny and so I took him on a trip down memory lane. He particularly loved it out here at St. Clair beach … the beach he had walked to, so easily, as a kid.
And we popped into my favourite cafe, The Esplanade, and he had a pot of tea, with cakes.
We looked for his childhood home but it is long gone, so we wandered out to the little cottage his mother shared with his stepfather, George. I knew it was still there, for sure.
We were home in time to leave for weekly session at the local RSA. His club since forever.
It’s a different kind of life, this small town New Zealand life, but not impossible.