Today, I am going to visit my Dad in hospital.
This time it will be different because I am going to woman up and talk to him about the fact that he is dying.
We don’t know what time-frame we are dealing with but I sense it will not be long. So there are conversations to be had and views to be asked.
The pain in the solar plexus region in my body is starting already and will doubtless start pounding as I enter the hospital.
How do you talk to your father about what sort of funeral he would like?
How do you work out with him whether it is appropriate for his grandchildren to see him in his current state of health?
How do you ask him about his writings and what he would like to see you do with them after his passing?
How through all of this do you try and maintain a level of calm and not just end up crying in that animal way that comes with deep pain?
I could duck it. I could run away but that would be the wrong thing to do.
With Mum it was easier as she was so vocal and a stage-manager till the end. She talked to me and told me exactly what she wanted. She also gave me the great gift of saying that she had lived a full life and was accepting of death.
Why does nobody talk about these sort of things? The vast majority will have lost a parent or be on a course to doing so at some point.
I wish my husband could come in with me but as ever there is nobody to look after the children for us and I don’t want them exposed to the horrors of the ward.
This is the very sort of situation I would ask my Dad’s advice on over our Friday fish and chip lunches. Which makes me realise just how much he will be missed.