Dad and Mom have been doing very well. They have bonded together and are on the same page lest anyone mention the "N" word. (nursing home)
Dad has been taking on chores he would not have found time for earlier. He had taken the time to "clean" - rearrange their bedroom so there would be room to park the wheelchair. She doesn't use it at home but when they go to the Doctor they use it.
When I was there he was very proud to show me his accomplishment. When mom had gone in the other room he started this conversation.
Dad: You wouldn't believe the storybooks I carried out of that bedroom. (he was of course shaking his head as he said this)
Dad: (still shaking his head) Yeah.
Me: What do you mean storybooks?
Dad: Oh, you know all those books she reads. I don't know where she got all of them.
[Oh, he means fiction!]
Me: Well, she may have gotten some of them from me!
When he showed me how many she had, (less than 20) I just thought I wonder what he things when he sees how many "storybooks" I have!! He must really shake his head!
Some of my "storybooks"