Brevity And Empathy.

4 years ago almost to the day, my day lost his battle with cancer.

We never had a chance to say goodbye. It was a conversation I don’t think he wanted to have. But the last thing he did was wink at me. It was his way of acknowledging the parting.

He died in a beautiful hospice called Forest Holme. It’s full of the most incredible and wonderful people ever to walk this earth.

It was the end of a wretched time for Dad and all of us.

Pancreatic Cancer is hard to diagnose and almost impossible to treat.

And so it was that way with my Dad.

One early September Monday in hospital, I sat with him opposite the Doctor as she gave the diagnosis. There was an awful silence then Dad’s head dropped and he sighed.

It was the beginning of the end.

The Doctor did her best but you could feel the weight of her words sink the room.

I walked with him out of the Doctors room, down the corridor towards a room where we queued up for a blood test.

We were both in shock from the news. I put my arm around him and he was trembling, so was I.

More than anything, I wanted the world to stop right there, pause and wipe the whole dam thing clean. Forget it ever happened. Spare us from what was about to come.