Bones jut now. Always so big and strong, I now feel every bone in my fathers body when I hug him. He's not eating and I get so angry, as if he's choosing to waste away from us. Finally the fact he's dying is settling upon him which fills days with such sorrow. He's too young to realise he's dying when all I wish for if for him to be happy and healthy and alive. And this is moving further and further away. Sixty three is too young to be dying. This tangle he's leaving is starting to be unpicked but there is so much left to do. If months or weeks are all that is left, I don't wish to spend them doing menial tasks. I don't want the last conversation I have with him to be about when the car tax needs to be paid instead of telling him how I wouldn't be the person I am without him.
1. I made early pancakes with my love on saturday as I won't see him on pancake tuesday and spent a lovely day with him doing normal saturday things I miss so much.
2. It was sunny enough to sit in the park and eat ice-cream.
3. My brother had a wonderful birthday and loved the cake I had made from him and the balloon with his name on it.
4. I miss dad just being my dad and not being someone I have to help get dressed and eat and sit up and get medicine for and drive to the hospital.
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