I lost my father only a week ago, it was heart breaking. I turt up to see him and to drop off some things, I did this weekly with another family member. We did it because he had been unwell off and on for the past 18 months or so. My father was forever the optimist, he thought he would get better and be to get outside, he loved being outdoors,it was freedom and he was free spirited in every way, so when he fell ill with COPD he was limited but still keen to keep moving even when he was out of breath or suffering as he did with terrible back pain. I arrived to see him, only to find his living space quiet, the morning post not picked up, him not sitting in his usual place, no TV on, that sense of despair became more evident when I found him in bed mid afternoon. My father never slept in, was a great believer in being up early with the birds and doing something, even if it was small, he wanted to be active. So, to arrive and find he had perished in his sleep, and the deafening silence that surrounds where he lived was devastating to say the least.
His living space was spotless, he was clean shaven, his clothes neatly folded to wear the next day, his evening soup he so liked, all cleaned and part readied for the next day.
All his 80 odd years just wiped out, just like that. He looked as if a sleep, the ways his were always when fell asleep, he looked peaceful and I am thankful he was in bed and his living space was clean and he was now rested.
I cannot get the images out of my, it’s to early, I’m gutted, I’m feeling without my compass.
. You’ve come to the right place - we understand, here.