Another weekend in the ER with my father. He fell over again and had to be taken to hospital by ambulance.
I took the call from my mother at a cafe where the kids, H and I had stopped off after rowing training (kids had begged H to stop and although at first he said "no", he then relented).
He heard everything I said on the phone to my mum about my dad being rushed to hospital, but didn't say a word about it after I got off the phone. Nor did he offer to drive S13 to his practice later in the afternoon, although he knew I'd have to be at the hospital.
Just weird, as my dad was like a father to H and, up until bomb drop, H had been his confidante. I suppose I'll just never understand....
