a beautiful mind

Dad and I live on and run our family farm in Leigh together, and have done so off and on since the 90s. He’s my shadow in the paddocks and is always keen to work – except around lunch and dinner time – and at 77, he can still pull out an eight-hour day.

My father was diagnosed with cognitive impairment 10 years ago, but I first noticed a difference back in 2002 when he was 61, long before any diagnosis was made. It turned out to be Alzheimer’s, an often familial neurodegenerative disease my grandfather also had.

When I was growing up, Dad was a tremendously successful engineer who helped build one of New Zealand’s biggest engineering companies. He knew the answer to everything and as a child, I tested that knowledge endlessly. But Dad could also be volatile socially, which made me feel like the father to my father when we were out and about, from my early teens onwards. I felt I was covering for him when he was being awkward, or trying to keep him calm when he got a bit ruffled.

I mention this for two reasons. This “management” prepared me for later in life when I became his carer.