What seems to give my father more pleasure than anything these days is wildlife – this at one point included next door’s dog – not strictly wildlife – but then he wasn’t our dog – so he sort of joined the category – until a very nice man called Sergey – mended the fence…

Wildlife also includes foxes, squirrels, parakeets and a multitude of birds – oh yes, and the mice! Despite my earlier efforts – I have now decided to live and let live – the mice population in my parents house seem to be thriving. And yesterday, during Swan Lake, we were treated to a display of fisticuffs!

My father has a complusion to put on DVDs. Several times a day he will get restless … he walks round to the unit that holds their collection of DVDS… my mother sighs loudly…

He starts gathering a collection together… and then, when he is satisfied – he hands me the bundle.

“We have all these ….”  He pauses, unable to find the word, “All these…we never watch them… find something there you’d like…”

I look at the pile – it will always have a few ballets that my mother has refused ever to watch again because they are so dreary;  a DVD of Downton Abbey – that he loathes;  a few films that we have watched over and over again that I know inside out – and that, if you put on, he immediately gets bored and starts muttering and complaining and asking when they are going to end …

…and Giselle…

My father loves Giselle … but only the first act…

I decided to be compassionate the first night,

“Oh Giselle! How lovely! Let’s watch that!”

He sat through the whole first act without getting restless … I felt like I was going to scream… I like Giselle but I have watched it over and over again over the last five years … and there comes a breaking point…

Yesterday he said, “That …” (again lost for words)

“Giselle?”

“Yes…we didn’t finish it…”

“No”

“Well…”

“Would you like us to put it on and watch the next bit?”

“Yes”

I am not usually a vengeful person, but I admit to a certain malicious delight in hearing his request – knowing that it gave me the perfect entry into putting on Act Two – seemly being kind and helpful – knowing that – five minutes later he would be squirming…

But enough of me being unpleasant and horrid…

Yesterday we bought three new DVDs whilst out: Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, and Romeo and Juliet – all firm favourites – and all once owned on video, but long since bitten the dust.

We got back around 5.30 and presented their present. My mother was delighted – she loves ballet, and is well aware that about the only thing my father can watch happily now is ballet – he doesn’t need to hear or understand what people say, he doesn’t need to understand or follow the plot – he can just enjoy the music and dancing…

We had bought some clothes while out – once the DVDs were gratefully received we got ready for the great unveiling!

…my father started wandering about, he picked up the DVDs…

“WHEN are we going to watch…?”

My mother sighed…

We chose Swan Lake… the next problem was how to get into it… my daughter produced scissors, and very sweetly helped him do the first bit, and then stood back so he had the satisfaction of – very gradually – liberating it from the cellophane…

Once freed we went through the well trodden ritual of trying to get the DVD to play, my father eventually giving up in disgust …

We let him go through this as it takes quite a while, but at least it meant that we could talk and share all the places we’d been and our day’s adventures.

I sometimes think my father likes DVDs because it is a way of shutting us all up – instead of us sitting happily chatting and laughing – which he can’t join in – because he can’t hear – and now mostly can’t understand – what we are saying … but with a DVD playing – we join him – sitting silently ( apart from his muttering ), watching the screen together … each of us feeling our different frustrations …

The DVD – with my help – is now successfully loaded and playing…

“Ah Fonteyn!”  says my father as the cast list comes up on the screen…

“AH FONTEYN!!!” I shout inside my head, “AH FONTEYN!!! How the hell does my father remember Margot Fonteyn and yet doesn’t know my name or who I am? He didn’t even seem to know who my mother was a couple of days ago… but the name Margot Fonteyn reaches bits of his brain – and computes – bonkers!

He sits down rapt, I am feeling quite smug, “I did this, I have found something to make him happy!”  My mother is happy too – taken back to another time, a favourite ballet, Margot Fonteyn her very favourite prima ballerina…   I am happy – it is not Giselle   – my daughter is happy – she likes ballet – just not Giselle … anymore…

And then he gets up…

He picks up another DVD…

He wanders about…

“Where is the…?”

After some “filling in the gaps” – we work out that he wants the scissors, he wants to take the cellophane off the other DVDs…

Even the fighting mice, spilling out from behind the basket chair, only distract him temporarily from this new quest…

So Margot Fotneyn – and the mice – are ignored as cellophane removal becomes the big attraction … and then he falls asleep…

Luckily, the rest of us really enjoy Swan Lake …  which means … yet again we had the best time 🙂