Driving Ms Barbsie

I sat my dad down this evening to run through with him the things his doctor has told us to watch for. It was something I had to do, because my dad can be a stubborn man who tries to mask anything and everything over.

It is a topsy-turvy world I live in right now. Whilst he would like to live life as normal as he can, I know that he is now restraint by limits. But like I said before, stubborn man that he is, he has and will continue to try to test said limits.

As I told a cousin of mine the day I last saw Dad's doctor, perhaps I am trying too hard to protect him. Perhaps being 2 steps ahead of him is not doing either of us any good. After all, our last episode of this bubble-wrapping saw him blowing up on me over the phone.

One of our greatest unspoken issue is his ability to continue driving. And when the time comes when he is no longer deemed safe behind the wheels. I just read something from the Galway Hospice Foundation website - a piece by Prof. Joan Borst who recounted the day her father stopped driving.

"Driving was part of his identity and made him an independent man, a husband and a father; roles of worth. In comparison to the news of a brain tumour, maybe learning he would no longer drive seems insignificant, but I knew that deep down it was hugely significant for the both of us. The pain and grief I felt was a signal that my father's ability for care for me was ending."

My day would come when I have to be in the good professor's shoes. I hope and pray that when it comes, both Dad and I would be shielded from the pain and grief, and that we would do it with a large amount of acceptance so that it would be as dignified as in the days when he drove me around.

Until then, I think I shall let him drive when the opportunity arises. After all, it is not everyday that I get driven around like Ms Daisy.