Early morning in Connecticut

The house is still quiet. I'm all packed, ready to fly out tonight and resume normal service back in London tomorrow morning. It's been a fine visit.  My father is still hanging in there and is rapidly descending into a world that I can't access with him anymore.  This is no different to my expectations, so feels alright.

Yesterday I had an interesting day having a new experience of New England. Driving into Massachusetts, where the trees are beginning to change colours and the churches look like something out of a Hollywood film set, was delightful.  We (my brother, sister-in-law and I) went to someplace called the Yankee Candle Factory which advertises itself as the 'Scenter of the Universe'.An interesting place to visit for someone with allergies.

After walking through a giant sales floor selling thousands of candles in varieties like popcorn, mango and passion fruit and clean linen, amongst hundreds of other scents, my olfactory sense had luckily just about closed down.  We then went on to a candy shoppe(!) where they sold gigantic apples dipped in caramel, coated in chocolate and then covered in mini-sweets.  People seemed to be queuing up to buy this stuff.  I resisted all this chocolate temptation and felt quite righteous.

After a good meal and a walk and wander round Amherst I could see the appeal of the small town life, but it's not for me.  I'm a city dweller and the buzz, dirt, mixed ethnicity and diversity of London is where I am most comfortable.  I do feel different here.  I understand the word 'alien' as it applies to new immigrants or visitors.  I do feel out of this world and a bit odd.  I also have to admit to a certain amount of smug superiority, of which I am only slightly ashamed. I am uninvolved in the American way of life and happy to leave it.

If not for my family here, I don't think I would visit anymore. I know there are beautiful places in the US, but the rest of the world is so much more interesting.  Walking through this candle place yesterday I watched people buying dozens of expensive scented candles, tchotchkis for their homes and assorted unnecessary crap, whilst the country bemoans a deficient health service, rising unemployment and the alienation of the younger generation.  Something is not right somewhere.

Today I will visit my dad before setting off for the airport.  For the past year I have wondered if this time will be the last time I see him.  I know he's no longer really my dad.  His spirit and vitality left him this year, but in there somewhere is the man who gave me so much love and cared so strongly and faithfully for my brother and me, that I can't really see this wheelchair-bound, little old man in any other way. I know that his life has little quality left.  His mind has gone and his survivor-infused body refuses to follow.  My wish is that we both go gently in our travels.