When my mother died, I took my father on a trip to Ireland, a place he'd always wanted to visit. We rented a car and drove more than 1,000 miles in ten days. We also drove each other crazy. His constant noise (whistling, singing, coughing, snoring, etc.) irritated me 24 hours a day. And I imagine my photographer's suggestions (No, not there. In the sun! No, over there. More to the left, etc.) must have worn on him, too. But at least my niggling resulted in some nice mementos. Like this one.