Ha ha, I worked with a guy named Pat McGrath when I was posted to Brisbane back in the 80's, Pat's mum had alzheimers pretty bad, and as Pat's dad had passed, Pat felt responsible for her, even though she was in a nursing home in Orange, (New South Wales) 600 miles away, so he'd drive down to see her every couple of weeks.
Problem was, Pat's mum thought that Pat was his brother Kevin, who lived locally, but hadn't bothered to get off his arse to visit his mum in years, so after Pat had driven the 600 miles to see her, she'd greet him with a big hug and tell him what a good boy he was for taking the time to visit his old Ma, "not like that little barstard Pat!"