End of life is not pretty. It isn’t a pretty phrase. It isn’t pretty to look at. My initial glimpse had me stop and hide behind the wall and say ‘Dad, I can’t go in’…
The Big Man on arrival home had offered to drive me all the way back down again.. but I needed to do this for myself, by myself. The drive my quiet contemplation time. Preparation time to strengthen my resolve.
I turned to my ‘go to’ audiobooks – The Secret and The Power. Whatever chapter I turn them on at, is always the message I need to hear.
Everything can fall in to one of 2 states – positive or negative.
You can see things as hard or as easy.

You can feel happy or sad.

See a world full of possibilities or littered with obstacles.

Live with an attitude of abundance or see only limitations.

Believe in the best or the worst.

Take responsibility or apportion blame.

Remember the good or hold on to the bad.

Whatever happens tonight, or tomorrow, or the next few days or even weeks, I will remember saying goodbye. I will remember holding both her hands, holding her beautiful green eyes in my gaze saying ‘Mummy, I love you’, telling her about Tom’s bravery and his broken leg, about Willy and his angelic round face sleeping next to mine last night…

I will blank out the rest from my memory and focus on just that bit. I will remember holding her tight and breathing her in…
And I will remember being utterly surprised again by my legendary Dad…. As he presented from the fridge his ‘Hundreds and Thousands Trifle’….