I forget when I am away from California how omnipresent the sunshine is. I did not appreciate the continuous sunshine when I was growing up here. I would pray unsuccessfully for clouds in the summer time. After all the rain we had in Kentucky recently, the sunshine is welcome, but I also appreciate the rampantly verdant foliage of Kentucky more.
My father sometimes seems to know who I am, but most of the time does not.
I wonder would it be worse for him to understand that it is his daughter wiping his ass, or to continue to view me as just another in a line of care workers.
My parents care worker, Jennifer, is a bright cheerful woman from the Philipines. She is very competent and caring. She has "adopted" my parents as she does not have any family of her own, and calls them "mommy" and "daddy." This I suppose contributes to my father's lack of understanding who I am, which does not bother me in itself. But I have become concerned that Jennifer herself is blurring the lines of reality, and forgetting that her kinship is fictive not real.