On Sunday I visited Dad and he was in the middle of something. He was going to see a woman about a movie and was by the door so I opened it for him and we went out. He told me just to wait a few minutes, he'd be back. I said OK and found some shade and took out my stitching and he rolled his wheels away from me with his hands very slowly, getting stuck now and then.
He has dementia and I haven't had a real conversation with him for months and months. Granted, I didn't see him during the ealry part of the summer when I had that broken leg, but now I try to go in every other day. He knows me, but exactly who he thinks I am varies.
During today's visit I told him that I had just come from paying the rent for my studio and was planning to start working there again. He asked me how much was the rent, and then told me that he had a space he'd like me to have for free. Does it have high ceilings? I asked and it did. He said it would please him very much if he could give it to me, so I said thank you.