Autobiography
...ty-two. Over the next year dad grew stronger. He first used a wheelchair to get about, then a zimmer frame and eventually just a walking stick. Life carried on as normally as it could. He used to walk to the local shops with his shopping trolley in tow and the dog trotting along behind. Mum had a new job, working as a barmaid at the local club. Two years passed. My mum told me that she wasn’t getting on with my dad too well, since his stroke. She told me he’d become very stubborn and cantankerous. She was also fed up of being a carer and while working at the club, had met another man and felt that they had something in common. She left my dad, my brother and me and went to live with Steve. They were married in 1995. In June 1986, my dad had his second stroke aged forty-seven. This time his left side was affected and his speech was much worse. He was in hospital this time for seven weeks. When he came out, I gave up my job to care for him night and day. It worked well for about a year and a half, but I felt at nineteen I needed more of a life, and I needed a job. My partner and I moved into our first flat together, leaving my younger brother looking after my dad. I did feel guilty leaving and didn’t realise the effect it would have on my brother. I still went down to help with bathin...