I am currently sorting through my Mum and Dad’s home of some 50 years as Mum is now in a local care home. It is challenging to revisit things they have kept for many years, much of which is destined for the bin or charity shops. I came across a planner which had belonged to my Dad, stored in his desk. The year was significant, 2004. Dad was not a writer, he had very basic formal education possibly up to age 14 and he mostly write in capital letters but I am always drawn to his handwriting. You can see from his entries he was very busy this week in 2004. He had retired but he was helping my brother with his latest venture, a building/landscaping business. Dad had not enjoyed great health in his later years. He had knee replacements, suffered from type 2 diabetes, had had several interventions for heart problems. I couldn’t help but feel that his notes during this week were not just practical reminders for the business activities but also a way of recording his worries about his health, something he never really spoke of to us. He was rather stoic and cheerful despite all he went through. His notes on Sat 5th and Sun 6th however show he was struggling.

Here’s the following week’s entries:

A much quieter week on the face of things. A mixture of hospital appointments and business reminders. By this point Dad was an amputee as a result of a failed knee replacement operation. This week is very familiar to me. On Friday 18th my teaching/assessing and reporting duties were over and the Language Centre was going out for our end of year celebratory meal at a Coventry Chinese restaurant. Before going over for the meal I called in at my parent’s house. I found the atmosphere very odd. Mum and Dad asked me to sit down. They told me Dad had been diagnosed with cancer. It was terminal. Dad’s time left was unknown. We were all stunned and I remember confiding in a colleague at the restaurant, she reassured me that all was not yet lost. Sunday 20th June was Father’s Day. We took our boys over to see Dad. He was upset that he didn’t feel able to wear his prosthetic limb, worried that the boys (then only 11 yrs and 9yrs) would be scared. They were not of course, he was still Grandad. He wanted a large pot for a plant he had in the garden. It took us 2 tries to get one he was happy was large enough.

Tuesday 22nd June Dad went to hospital and I think he has was admitted at that appointment. Hospital stays had been a part of his retirement routine, still our family was unaware of how time was ticking away. We all visited every day, he was cheerful but on some serious medication. I remember being shocked by the colour of the fluid in the drain attached to him. Dad lost his short battle with Cancer on Saturday 26th June 9 (my brother’s birthday). He was 72 year old.

Dad was my hero, the strong sensible one who was always a shoulder to cry on. Never one to judge, he was tolerant and kind to a fault. He was hugely influential in my life. It has taken nearly 20 years for me to discover that he was afraid his time was running out. I hope writing these notes helped him to prepare.