Barbecue

A few weeks ago, the AFH where Dad lives had a family barbecue. It happened to fall on the first day with actual sun we've had in Seattle, so that was a plus. I went with my boyfriend, and we met my sister there. We all sat with Dad around a table, talking and laughing. I'm not sure he completely knows who we are anymore, but he responded like he always has to my sister's funny stories of the strange things that happen to her. We all got plates of food, and I felt a low-level panic because I've never had to help Dad eat before. Luckily, he would occasionally pick up his fork, load it with food, and bring it to his mouth, but more often he just sat there. One of the care-givers came over and fed him a few bites, indicating it was okay to feed him. So I picked up the fork, put some food on it and brought it to his lips. He seemed a little reluctant at first, although I don't know if that was because he didn't want any food just then. If he does have some glimmer of who I am, was it hard for him to have the daughter HE once fed, feed him?