A different world

The other day when I was looking after Dad he got confused about breakfast and the following exchange ensued:

“What do I do now?”
“Have an oat cake”
“What do I do now?”
“Have an oat cake”
“Have an oat cake?!” (In his slightly aggressive sceptical tone) “Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s what you’ve done every morning for nearly 100 years Dad!”

Nearly 100 years! He is 92. He was nine when the war started, old enough to remember the navy dropping depth charges on a U-Boat that had entered The Clyde. Old enough to have grown up in a radically different world. A world with very different attitudes, attitudes that explain a lot of his views that I sometimes struggle with.

I need to remember this.