Saturday morning, I picked up Dad at the nursing home to take him to Margaret's for the weekend. I picked them up at noon or so for lunch with brother William at Lizard's Thicket. Then Margaret wanted Dad to have a haircut with her stylist (around the corner from where I live) so I gave them a ride there and back, too.
Sunday, I was standing by, but they didn't need me. They went to Captain D's (fast food seafood) for a late lunch, then by the cemetery (also in my neighborhood) to see Margaret's son-in-law's grave. To be honest, I had no idea what to do with my first actual weekend in seven or eight months. But I really did need to be standing by.
I picked up Dad about 5 and took him back in time for both supper and the Super Bowl at the nursing home. By all signs and portents, they had a wonderful weekend together. Dad used his walker and had no problem except for the continuing thing with shortness of breath and limited stamina. I think that's just connected to dialysis.
A good weekend? A great weekend? I don't know, but I did skip all the way from the nursing home back to the car, which I don't remember ever doing before.
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