WARNING This post contains honest details of someone dying at home from cancer.
My elderly father died in September from advanced bladder cancer, after I had moved in with my parents to care for them both in his last months. I found preparing myself for his death hard, not least because I just didn't know what to...
I'm never quite sure about where I live. The isolation, the wind. It roars across the house some days, a constant thrum, lifting the chairs on the patio, tossing plastic pots, hissing through the gaps in the windows. But it's the dark at night I hadn't expected. How dense it was. I remember my first night, standing in the lane...
Living out in the sticks (as my sons often say), and on a hill (lovely view, the estate agents said), we catch the wind. The rain sweeps over the valley, the buzzards get blown off course and I've had to give up my office chair to allow the cat to remain undisturbed. The house is quiet but for the moan...
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