This morning, my husband, son and I went over to pick up my dad for church. There we discovered that Dad had slipped out of the Board & Care during a shift change, opting to head out to church on his own. Fortunately, one of the caregivers spotted him and followed him, though she couldn’t redirect him back to the Board & Care.

On a busy street, Dad flagged down a car, hopped in, and told the driver (a stranger!) that he needed to get to church. Helpless, the caregiver hopped in with him.

In the meantime, not knowing that Dad had gotten into someone’s car, we drove up and down streets, looking for him, knowing he couldn’t walk very far. Finally, we received a call that he was at church. So…off we zoomed to church.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t at OUR church.

An hour later, we tracked Dad down and waited outside of the church where he happened to be. Sadly, a long winded preacher kept the congregation an extra half-hour (and, of course, Dad sat in the front row). Two nice ushers came up to us as we waited in the narthex and tried to convince us that we should be attending their church. When we finally explained the situation, they gave up and walked away.

Finally, the service ended, we scooped up Dad and the caregiver, thanked the stranger who brought them to church (heaven only knows what he was thinking!), and took Dad back to the Board & Care.

We had missed church, spent nearly two hours looking for Dad, and were just exhausted. Dad had the gall to be irritated with us for taking him back to the Board & Care for lunch.

An excursion with my dad has the feeling of slamming oneself repeatedly into a brick wall.

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