Gone....

I haven't been around for a while. The reason being I received a phonecall at work one day towards the end of May. It was my Dad telling me that my Mum was in hospital as she had had a stroke and was being operated on, oh and he had just been diagnosed with lung cancer. Not quite the thing you want to hear at work, and of course I just broke down. Suddenly my parents didn't seem as immortal as I always thought they were.

I sat at my desk at work and couldn't talk. I was so shocked. I'd only seen them six weeks previously, and they seemed fine. Old, but fine. I couldn't get my head around it. The next day I was on a plane back home to London. And for the next 4 weeks I was commuting back and forth from Copenhagen to London, as did my brother from Beijing.

To cut what could become a long story short, my mother is doing well considering she had six mini strokes and part of her carotid artery taken out, rinsed and put back again! Pretty amazing what they can do these days. My father on the other hand, spiralled downwards and exactly 4 weeks after he originally called me, on the 30th June, he died peacefully at the North London Hospice, with me holding his hand.

I still can't believe it, and even though I had those 4 weeks, it didn't feel like enough time to say goodbye. He didn't just have cancer in his lungs, it was in his Pancreas, his liver and his spine - a very aggressive form. In some respects I am glad that he didn't have to suffer any longer than he did. On the other hand I am angry that he left us so quickly.

The next few weeks were taken up making arrangements for the funeral and we gave him a good send off, complete with a Jazz Band, which he would have loved. I met friends and relatives I haven't seen for years and strangely enough kept looking around to see where Daddy was.

I think it is actually only now, that it has hit me. I have lost my father, the one and only person who never seemed to judge me in whatever I did, and just accepted me for what and who I am. Maybe we were two of a kind after all, even though I was adopted. I'll hold that thought.

All I know is, that I'll miss him, and I know that in time the knot in my stomach will eventually dissolve away and it won't hurt when I think about him.