The final chapter?

Catkins in January!  Dad would have had something to say about that, along with the magpie trying out a last years' nest for size.  Not sure what is happening to our seasons!  I am sure he would have enlightened me with some snippet of his wisdom.

My life has been on hold for a long time, and I guess it won't be mine again until after Dads funeral next week.  I have mourned the gradual loss of my Father over the past 6 weeks, and the pain of him finally dying is not as raw as it was when my Mother died.  None the less it is, obviously, still painful.  I think I am ok and then something sneeks past the barrier set up in my mind and triggers the flood gates.  Today I am very, very sad.  I have found myself talking to him already in the same way I talk to Mum.  I can do this out loud or in my head, I am not bothered!  I seem to have the habit of talking to myself anyway, so now its a three way conversation.

The night before Dad died we had a good visit.  I had a natter with him, well, to him, he lost his power of speech a while ago, about the days events.  One of the nurses had put some classical music on the radio for him to listen to and I did threaten to change it to something Will Young orientated.  Dad would probably have raised his hands and mock screamed "ahhh, Will" as he did whenever I talked about him, knowing my er affection for him!  The hospice wasn't terribly full so the nurses seemed to drift to Dad's room and it was more like a coffee morning at some points.  The lovely thing about the nurses, or one of the lovely things, was that they always spoke to Dad as if he was able to hear and answer.  No one knew how aware of anyone he was, but with the premise that hearing is the last sense to be lost, they were always cheerful around him and included him.  When one of the nurses phoned me at 4.15am to say he had died, as well as being numb, I was comforted by the fact that they were still looking after him at that time of the morning.  The St Peters Hospice nurses are very special ladies, and we owe them a lot.  They looked after Dad as if he was their own father and they looked after my sister and myself too, bless them.

Monday night I had a dream about Dad, he was still ill, but was recovering.  It was a weird dream, as most of mine are, but at the very end of it Dad gave me a really big, tight hug.  I am happy to go along with the belief that he came to me to say goodbye.  I know all the rational thoughts and explanations, but I do feel better for it and am happy to think it really was Dad. 

I had another strange occurrence last night as well.  When I went into my bedroom it smelled bad!  I checked for cat poo or wee, flippin cat, will say no more about her, and the room was yuk free.  I kept smelling the smell and realised it was a cigar like smell, and out loud said "If there is someone in here I will be a bit cross because its a bit rude to wander into peoples bedrooms!"  I then got into bed and had a voice in my head say "He's arrived now" and the smell went.   Weird.  I am 100pc certain that I wasn't consciously thinking about Dad.  I have had no thoughts of him being anywhere other than dead because of his absolute belief that when he died that would be it.  I used to ask him to pop back and leave me a message or sign and he would say in no uncertain terms that when he died that would be the end, he wouldn't go on anywhere, reincarnate or anything because there was nothing after death.  Maybe I am having the last laugh .............