Sunday, January 18, 2015

The Healing ... Part 2

As we approach Jan/Feb every year my mind starts to wander back to 2009 and what was the last few weeks we got to spend with my Father.

Dad had already been in and out of hospital including a trip to Perth to remove most of a brain tumour. After that he got to spend some time at home including Christmas, while he did chemo.

It was a day in mid January and we got a call from someone at the hospital to say it was bad news; tests showed the cancer had spread to his bones.

So I rang the family and we turned up at Nan & Gramps place.

I don't believe Dad really understood why we were there. But we were there to take every and any opportunity to be together as a group and take pictures with him and the children while he was still looking relatively well.  

It was a sad afternoon, but it was kept relatively light by the fact Dad was clueless.

I have no regrets for the things I did to capture every moment, to hold on to him as hard as I could with both hands, even though I sometimes made other people in my family angry.

He was after all the one and only dad I would ever have.  He was 75 and I was 32.

It was hard on the kids. Some of the pics show that in their little tiny faces. But it was important. We were still able to make memories with him. Once Gramps was gone there was no more memory making to be done, except the funeral.

After that, everything about him was in retrospect, past tense.

It was the last time we were all at their home together.  Not long afterwards he was put into GRHS, then flown to Royal Perth where we were told he would die, and then finally flown home to spend some time at SJOG Hospital, before transferring back to GRHS where we celebrated my eldest brother Jons birthday on Feb 7.

And in the early hours of February 12 2009, with only about 12 hours notice that he was truly palliative (less than 7 days to live) Dad slipped away as I held his hand & kissed his brow.

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