Dad's not with us any more. He died just after I had my first bowel cancer surgery. I didn't tell him, back then, about my chemo. I told him I was cured. He died believing I was well. Sometimes lying is the right thing to do. I still miss my Dad. He was 89 when he died. His sense of humour never diminished. I hope I can hold on to mine. I'm still here, still battling on.
Dad, just in case, .... Happy 92nd Birthday!
I find it difficult to justify failing to tell the truth. Perhaps that's why I'm so honest when I write (artistic licence is different).
Anyway in the interest of honesty you might like to look at the following conversation I've been having this morning.
I was thinking the other day that if you and Trish hadn’t done what you did for mum all those years ago after my dad left, and then again for me later in inviting me out to France then I dread to think where we/I would be now. I have a hell of a lot to thank you for.
***. It's all part of our journey. Every moment it's another fork in the road. Who knows where any of us would be. No thanks required. It's s privilege to count you as a friend.
Well you’ve had a surprising knack of being there at the right times saying and doing the right things. I’ll always be grateful even if it was done freely. And likewise.
Can’t imagine the dark places you must be going to but I’m amazed all the time at how much people can bear and with determination squeeze every last drop out of life.
It must be very hard but I reckon you’re doing a grand job so far. Every single one of your blog posts made me think.
My favourites are the school report one and the one written the day after you had too much wine.
I just enjoy writing them. It's a bonus when I get feedback. If I touch anyone or give anyone any reason to think then it's an excellent result.
What I especially like is that they’re open ended.
You’re not driving some message - they’re open ended enough that people can draw whatever conclusions they want from them.
That to my mind shows incredible emotional intelligence on your part because I can think of people in the same situation who would start moralising about this or that but you don’t do that. It speaks to a calmness in the face of adversity that not everybody could muster. Not even sure I could. I’m sure you have your moments but those blog posts speak to how brave you really are.
Thanks ***. If nothing else it's all from the heart. I'm not sure I'm brave. I just put it out there.
Yeah you can tell it’s from the heart. From my perspective that’s rare.
***...just an ask. Can I put some of this conversation in my blog?
Very meta, I like it... 👍
All of the above happened while I was at the Headland doing the chemo thing. All the while dispensing my sage advice to the lovely nurse that it was was my good fortune to have looking after me. I think I also managed to find a buyer for my MX5 so generally not a bad morning .
I'm home now feeling a bit odd, armed with a whole package of drugs and dressings, with a pump in my pocket.
I think I'm due a quiet afternoon.