Tuesday 26th May
This morning your Dad had to go to hospital for an operation to remove a cataract. It was straightforward, and all went well, but I had to sit in the foyer waiting. A couple of hours, watching the comings and goings of staff and patients. And I thought of you all the time.
This was the hospital where you had your first CT scan, and they found the brain tumour, sending us off to the bigger hospital as a medical emergency. That was back in November 2014.
So many ‘What if…’, ‘Why…’, ‘I wish…’ and ‘If only…’ thoughts were going round and round my head.
I was pleased when I was eventually called to go and collect your Dad, and we were able to drive away. Our next stop was to come and see you, but Dad forgot about the instructions the surgeon had given, and when he bent down to touch your cross, a sharp pain was felt behind his eye. He swore, then apologised to you for his bad language. You would have told him off.
Dad sat down for a while and held his head back, allowing the pain to go. It was peaceful, bright and sunny in the cemetery, and the sound of songbirds filled the air. We simply like being near you, talking and tending to the flowers.
Tears flow as we think of what might have been. If only………