once I thought I knew everything I needed to know about you

Each day pain is etched more on his face. Moving now hurts. He lies across the bed at odd angles, fallen, crumpled and says it's more comfortable than moving. Silence takes over more of the day. He sleeps. And sleeps. Tomorrow he will go into the hospice. To control the pain, they say. A week or so, they say. I'm terrified he will never come home. Mum went into hospital for a week and died there 4 weeks later. He is giving up. Yet still has time for kind words and to hold my hand and tell me that what is most important to him is that I am happy. Rubbing lotion on his tired back, each vertebrate stands out beneath his freckle flecked skin. His arms have become so frail and thin, all bone and no flesh. I took my brother to spend an hour by his bedside tonight, an hour we could spend as a family. They said goodnight and dad held his hand for a long time. His eyes look so scared. Their blue now edged with a look of bewilderment. He told me that I had awoken him from a lovely dream this afternoon. He dreamed that he was cured.

1. On saturday a wonderful friend premiers her film and many friends will gather to celebrate and I will be one such friend.

2. I basked in the sun for hours today reading in the glory of flowers my father has created in the garden.

3. Next week my friend and wonderful godchildren will be home for a week to meet for walks and cake. 

4. I have to find away to tell my brother that dad is dying and he will have to say goodbye soon.

if I get to take over I get to say goodbye

Such anger has invaded our home. Tumors prove resistant to chemo so now pills only give hope of slowing the spread through organ and bone. Words designed to hurt over percieved slights cut so, so deep. Jagged tears wept by his side illict no pity. So I did what I do best and ran. For four days I lived my life as it had been before the awareness of his dying. I slept in my own bed and held my love and spoke with my friends and walked along rivers and streets that I chose over a decade ago and the pull of what my life had been was so powerful. The only way I get it back is when my father dies and that is a high cost indeed. So I return. And remove myself from day to day goings on to avoid the possibility of flaying words and his pain and in doing so spend my father's remaining days in the same house but not with him. I must be stronger and better than I ever thought I could be. He will not die alone. 

1. Sunday was spent lazily reading papers and walking along rivers hand in hand with my love. 

2. This weekend I attend an old friends wedding and catch up with people I have not seen for months. 

3. After a head to toe massage I had afternoon tea in a lovely tea room with a friend I had not seen enough of lately. 

4. Dad's tumors are chemo resistant so now there's no hope of stabilising him, only making him comfortable as his cancers slowly kills him.