So, today, after a long and valiant struggle with cancer my Dad finally passed away.
God knows how he managed to live for so long when he had been seriously ill for such a long time, but I like to think it was his sheer bloodymindedness that kept him going for so long.
But it was at the beginning of this year that we noticed a major change in his health, and after that he became increasingly frail. Three weeks ago the ward sister at the hospital, where he spent the last few weeks of his life, told us that he was unlikely to live for very much longer and we should prepare ourselves.
Over the next three weeks we saw Dad struggle to stay alive. He was a fighter, and he wasn't going to go until he was ready and it occurred to me that it was like watching someone hanging off the edge of a cliff. We knew that inevitably he would lose his grip on the edge and fall to his death, but somehow he found enough strength to hang on for longer than anyone could possibly expect. Well today, Dad's his fingers finally slipped and he was gone.
I'd like to think that he's finally reunited with Mum, the love of his life. Rest in peace Dad.