Trying to take care of my dad with his dementia. Thought my brother and I had it figured out. Dad had agreed to sell one of his vehicles. We arranged to pick him up and take him to the bank to get the title out of the safe deposit box. Get there and the title to his truck is there, but not the other car. OK, no big deal. Get home to get some stuff out of the other car and get a new title. Dad doesn’t have the keys to either vehicle. My guess - he removed them prior to us coming and putting them in a “safe” hiding place. But to Dad, it is now that we have “stolen” his keys to keep him from driving.

Went to meet my brother at Dad’s place today to clean some things up in order for in-home care to start next week. My brother arrives in a pissy mood, cleans up a little and departs. The house is still in remarkable disarray - let alone how unclean the coffee cup Dad is drinking from. Dad then calls me later and asks when we decided he couldn’t take care of himself. (Duh, he calls me 3 times in 60 minutes with no clue that we have talked)

Oh, and MrsTarH is likely in need of 1 to 3 more stents on Tuesday. Not that I have time to be worried about her, which of course I more than am.

Just juggling a lot of shit. Could use a hug and some advice. Sorry to dump but just feeling on an island right now.