Dad

We made it to the Falkirk Wheel on Wednesday. Very impressive piece of engineering but that's about as much as we can say on that!

Wednesday evening we went to Linlithgow Castle with Nigel and Roxanna for some Scottish dancing. Paul obviously didn't do any dancing but Nigel was very good and took me for a spin. Really enjoyed it, luckily the rain held off and it was a pleasant evening.

Yesterday we took a drive into the Trossachs which was very pretty. We stopped off at a wool mill where Paul bought himself a tartan blanket and I got a waxed jacket, fortuitously as it turns out seeing as it hasn't stopped raining since. We then drove to Loch Lomond and spent an hour driving along the banks looking for a restaurant with no success. We ended up turning around and driving all the way back to the first one we'd seen.

Drove past Stirling Castle on the way back, and the Wallace Monument. However now we've seen those I doubt we'll actually visit them.

So yes, Edinburgh tomorrow. Hopefully Paul will be up for it - walk to the station, train into the city, find the restaurant and then kill time in the afternoon before we head to the Castle for the Tattoo.

We went to Bo'ness today and took a ride on a steam train to Birkhill. Unfortunately that was as much as Paul could manage: we did drive along to the Falkirk Wheel but he couldn't manage the walk from the car park to the wheel so we came back to the house. We'll rest up again for the rest of today and see how we go tomorrow.

My cousin Nigel and his wife Roxana only life around the corner. They invited us for a bbq yesterday evening, Nigel walked round with Dylan the dog and led us back to his place. Unfortunately the flight and milling around in the morning hasn't helped Paul's gout so he was hobbling along very slowly. It was a lovely evening but by 9.00 we were bushed so we made our way back here.

Today we haven't done anything, Paul has just been resting his leg. Hopefully tomorrow we'll go out for a drive and take in some scenery. Nigel and Roxana have invited us to do a Scottish dancing evening on Wednesday night, at Linlithgow Castle. We'll go along although I doubt Paul will do much dancing!

The house is still on the market. Obviously it's a bad time at the moment and we've only had a handful of viewings. We've already dropped the price by £10k, it's now on for just under £220k which I think is a fair price for a 4 bed semi with a garage. It's a nice quiet no-through road. We reckon that one day the right person will turn up. Meantime we may consider renting it out although obviously that has its pitfalls.

We've moved most of the stuff out now, barring the furniture, so it's de-personalised. That's helping me get more emotionally distant from the house. I was born there, as were Roger and Sally, and if we'd sold it straight away it would have been a terrible wrench. It will still be sad to see it go but at least I'm seeing it less as "Mum and Dad's" now, it's just "the house".

Today I'm going to do my second stint at the St Luke's shop in Grays. There's various things to do there - sort through the bags of donations, work the till, price up stuff to put out, tidy the racks and shelves. I wanted to do it as a way of giving something back as the Hospice were so kind to Dad and to us, in fact are still being kind. Me and brother Paul have been going a monthly bereavement group there and have found it really useful. In fact the next one is next Monday and I think it'll be our last one. I certainly feel I have come through the worst of the grieving now.

A couple of weeks ago, on 7th June, it would have been Mum and Dad's golden wedding anniversary. We laid some flowers at the grave and I had a bit of a cry, mainly because I was thinking about what we'd have been doing had they been alive. There'd have been a party that's for sure! But in the evening we went to a party anyway as my cousin Robert had recently married in Spain, and the party was for everybody here to celebrate with them. So it was nice to spend the time there, particularly as Rob's Mum, my auntie Maureen, was Mum's bridesmaid. Rounded it all off nicely.

We've all been round tidying, cleaning, throwing stuff out. The house is now looking quite good so hopefully somebody will come and see it and want to buy it. Sad as it is to think of somebody else living there, it will be a big step to moving on.

Yesterday we went to church. As it was a family service for harvest festival, Dad wasn't mentioned in prayers although Valerie said he had been mentioned at the 8.00 service. Afterwards she gave us a private prayer in the lady chapel.

We went back to Dad's house after the service and started gathering some photos for me to use in the slide show at the wake. We've found some fantastic ones - from when he was very young, from his army days, in his football kit and cricket gear.

I went to visit him last night, on my own. He gave me a lovely smile when I walked in but he was so poorly I couldn't help but cry. I told him how grateful I was for the childhood he and Mum gave me and the rest of us, how they had taught us well and we were now passing it on to our children. He then asked for some water so I gave him a few sips, and as he was so obviously tired I squeezed his hand and told him I loved him, then kissed him goodbye and told him I'd see him tomorrow. He said "thanks love" and I left the room. I spent a while chatting to one of the nurses afterwards. She said he'd seemed much brighter earlier and had even had some porridge for his breakfast.

When the phone started ringing just before 5 I knew what it was going to be. The hospice had called Paul saying that Dad had taken a sudden turn for the worst and they thought he was near the end. I got dressed and drove straight there, arriving before Paul or Sally. One of the nurses met me at the door and said "I'm so sorry, he has passed away".

She had been in to see him earlier as he'd been a bit sick. She was cleaning him up and tutting about it all being in his beard, and he laughed at that. She said there was something about him that wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She kept checking on him and noticed that his breathing was getting more erratic. Then he started making a groaning sound and she realised it was his time and so she called Paul. She went back into Dad and told him we were on our way, then he took a couple of breaths and he was gone.

I think he chose to go before we got there, as Mum did back in March.

Paul arrived a few minutes after me, and Sally shortly after that. Then we went in to see him. I kissed him on the forehead as I knew I wouldn't want to do it when we left. I'd kissed Mum when she was cold and didn't want to do it this time around, I wanted to remember him warm.

We spent a while just sitting there, with the nurse bringing us cups of tea. Then we went into the family room where we were given leaflets on how to cope with bereavement, and also details of what to do next in a practical sense.

Helen flies back into Heathrow tomorrow morning so we decided not to tell her until then. She has got a long journey home and we didn't want to make it any more difficult for her.

We have arranged the funeral for Tuesday 30th October.

There will be a MacMillan nurse with him the whole time, including in the ambulance, and Paul said he will travel with him as well. This is going to happen on Monday between 11 and 3. There will be no option for him to stay beyond that, no matter how much he pleads. At the moment I can't decide whether to go or not. I think I will find it too unbearable but then again maybe it would be better for Dad to have as much company as possible.

Him and Mum moved in to the house at the beginning of 1960. It was newly built and Mum was heavily pregnant with Paul. There's so many memories within those walls - so many in fact that we have decided to spend Christmas day (and maybe new year's eve) there, all together, for one last hurrah. We'll take sleeping bags and crash for the night. Roger is hoping to get over at some point between Christmas and New Year so he'll be able to say goodbye as well.

Mel said that Dad is obviously very poorly and that although they haven't been able to do much in the way of tests and examinations, it is obvious to them that the cancer is too far advanced for even palliative chemotherapy to have any effect. They still don't have any idea of time but they reassured us that they would keep him at the hospice for as long as possible - they don't automatically discharge patients after three weeks.

I said I would be happy to have him back at our house provided there was a total care package in place beforehand. Dee said not to worry about any of that, they would take care of everything should it come to that. It wasn't a big part of the conversation and I don't imagine he will come out of hospital at all.

He is now catheterised. He feels freezing to the touch but says he is very hot. The window in his room is open and the fan is on.

Sally has been in to see him this afternoon and he seems to have got over the "I'll try" mood and has refused medication again. Sally said to him that she understands he doesn't want to be here but that we will persist in visiting, and it wouldn't hurt him to raise a smile now and then. A few minutes later Isabelle and Yasmin went in to say goodbye to him and he smiled!

So back to square one really. I just hope and pray it won't be long and drawn out, for all our sakes but mostly for his. I am trying to deal with it the same way I dealt with Mum's final illness - by thinking that my Dad went a long time ago, and the guy in the bed is nothing like him both in appearance and character.

Paul and Shirley popped in to see him just after lunch time and he promised them he would try to eat. Then when me & Sally went in at about 4, he asked for milk and biscuits. He also apologised to me

Me and Sally then had a long chat to the nurse who repeated the thought that Dad is suffering from depression first and foremost. She doesn't deny that he's very ill though. We explained to her some of the background so far - the seven weeks spent on a hospital ward with not much in the way of exploratory tests, the fiasco of his discharge from hospital, the rapid deterioration once he was at our house. I also said how I felt bad that he was taking up a hospice bed when there may be people more ill than him who would need it. She said that wasn't an issue, he was due to go in anyway for symptom assessment.

We came away feeling slightly better. At the hospice he will be fully assessed and hopefully there will be a clearer idea of exactly what is wrong with him.