Our Christmas and New Year have been times we will never forget. My dad-90- has been declining gradually for a year or two now. It hasn’t been a sharp decline so that we got used to seeing him a bit breathless and slowing down. More recently he has had a couple of blackouts, one of which put him in hospital with a horrible gash to his head and a black eye. He also had several near misses where he passed out but there was either something to hang onto or to cushion his fall. Nevertheless, Sandy and I saw a greatdeal of them and usually went out to lunch with them and certaily whenever we had friends round, mum and dad would be on the guest list. Just before Christmas, we arranged for an emergency private consultation with a heart specialist who took one look at Dad and immediately admitted him to hospital with advanced heart failure. He wanted to get rid of the fluid that was collecting in his lungs and legs and possilby perform heart surgery to repair the valve that was letting him down. He said that without surgery, he wouldn’t live a year. Admitted to St Richrds Hospital in Chichester on Saturday 19th Dec, he spent three days there before he ripped out all of his tubes and monitors and insisted on going home. On Tuesday morning, we went to see him, as we had done every day before, but this time he was sitting with his overcoat over his pyjamas and his shoes on. It was a sad sight. He was entirely clear with his reasoning. He said that nothing was being achieved by him being in hospital and it was hard to disagree. But for him to come home - effectively to die - seemed a hard decision for him to make, not least because of the load that it would place on my mum. Mum - 81 - has been frail and unwell for a good few years now. She has been in and out of hospital and we have been nervous for her due to her frailty and health. She was now faced with the prospect of being Dad’s carer. It was as though Dad’s decline in health had been so much greater this year that it made mum look relatively healthy in comparison. When I drove Mum over to Chichester from their home in Worthing, she was adamant. “He can’t come home. He just can’t. I can’t look after him!” He came home the same day. We rushed around to put a huge package of support for mum and dad including hospice nurses. Dad was quite alarmed at the word ‘hospice’ and he had to have it explained to him that there was no possibility of him getting better. Effectively, from that Tuesday 22nd December, we were starting to say a protracted farewell to Dad. We had a last Christmas meal together where Dad bravely ate his dinner despite a vanishing appetite and led us in Grace. Despite having oxygen full time, Dad declined gradually until on 2nd January - can it only be the Saturday before last? - we called mum to ask how dad was. She said that he wasn’t good so we cancelled plans and hurried over. One look at him told us that he was close to the end. A doctor came to the flat to give him morphine to ease his discomfort . During the morning, dad and I had a wonderful conversation about his death and his funeral and I asked if he had any thoughts about what hymns he would like. He sang the beautiful hymn ‘Loved by everlasting love’ - well he croaked it anyway. He reflected on his life and his faith. I recorded the conversation so I could listen to it later. I took mum out for lunch to give her some fresh air and a break. She had been in the flatfor two weeks since the visit to the cardiologist. We arrived back to find two nurses at the flat to install a morphine driver for dad so he could have a steady supply. Even as they put the line into him they could see that he wouldn’t be needing it. “when the end comes, I hope it will be quick’ he confided in me. As the clock clicked past 230 dad urgently needed the toilet. Sandy and one of the nurses got him out of bed and to the loo. When he got back into bed, he smiled and closed his eyes. He died in his own bed surrounded by people who loved him just after 2 45pm on Sat 2nd January.

Mum was heartbroken and we started to look after her in her grief. The following day, we took her to church wjere she and dad had been members for many years. It’s a flourishing church that they had planted years before. It was an amazing service which Mum loved. She came back to our flat for lunch after which we took her to Bosham - a delightful village on Chichester harbour where she and Ron had courted 58 years ago. We took her to the teashop they had been to and it was a delightful afternoon. On Monday, we drove mum to Heathrow airport to meet my sister who rushed home from Canada. We stopped on the way and enjoyed the snow and the flocks of robins at the cafe. She had tea and buttered toast. We had started to make plans a out her life without Ron. She wanted to come for weekends away with us to revisit places she’d been with Ron and to see shows etc. She was excited - but exhausted- and in truth the thought of her livin on her own was a frightening one for Sandy and me. On Tuesday 5th we went to see Dad at the funeral directors and that was a heartbreaking time. She looked so tiny and vulnerable and alone, sitting by Rons coffin. In the afternoon I took her to get her hair done. When we put her to bed on Tuesday, her breathlessness was causing her real distress. We called a doctor and she was admitted to hospital by ambulance with pneumonia and other issues. She appeared to respond to treatment, but was just too frail and unwell to recover. She died on Sunday morning 10th January 2010 less than eight days after he love of her life had left her for the arms of Jesus. All this has been completely exhausting and shocking. It’s left a huge hole in our lives. However we absolutely see the mercy and kindness of God in reuniting them so quickly. We went to see Mum yesterday and it was wonderful to see her without her stick and the breathlessness that had so troubled her. There was an aura of peace surrounding her which was wonderful. There will be a joint commital service for them both next Thursday -21st Jan- followed by a memorial sevice for them both. That will be an emotional time. Their departure has caused huge grief and a sense of bereavement but both Sandy and I adn my Sister Joy are grateful for their lives and also to have been their children - or children in law. So Christmas will never really be the same again because of these events, but I’m confident that we will always look back on two amazing parents who showed us so clearly how to live a Christian life saturated in love and laughter!