September leaving

Len Croney

All days start with waking, all days that end that is. Some days don't follow the rules, they have no start or end, this was one of those days. Keeping things normal when great changes are going on is a human thing. As I walked again to the hospital I took in all the normality around me and wondered how it could be so. Dad had always been fit, at 87 he was fitter than most 50 year olds, but a broken hip, a hospital infection and a bank holiday which had brought the NHS to a temporary inability to decide on treatment, conspired to bring him to this day.

We were warned, my sister and I, an old man, Pneumonia, he is strong but... Best to withdraw the treatment, its only causing more distress, yes, as much whisky as he wants, or can manage, it won't harm him now. Bad news for dad when no one wants to stop him having more whisky.

To my sister, "I think I'll just stay tonight" so it was just him and me then. Nights awake used to be endless when I was young, sitting with him time left its normal tracks as the day had already lost its form. Gently and imperceptibly he left me as I talked to him of the dawn. "Its okay nurse, he's fine", she is going to look so foolish when he sits up and asks for a cup of tea. No pulse on that side, "no, thats okay, try the other arm, he's okay, he's okay, just having a sleep."

It's not until you say the words "He's gone" on the phone to his daughter that numbness turns to pain. The day that never started or ended for Dad grinds on, as normal as ever. I still don't understand how that can be.