Katy's Race for Life

I chose cancer research on behalf of dad who would want more research into stopping cancer in it's tracks .. and I chose the run for me as I know I can cope better with grief when I am fit ! I scribbled something pretty sad, as it feels right to be open and honest and once day I hope to help people who are going through bereavement .. as I think we should talk about it more xx This time last year I would have been holding my dad’s hand in the hospice with the biggest lump in my throat . I had become an adult (in a way that having children didn’t do to me)- very quickly at a pace dictated by cancer in my dad and in my mum. my dad’s just spread and spread and he could usually fix everything ... My mums was quite drastically removed but she made light of it to get back to my dad and us. He had hope until the last week when they told him it like it was. The saddest time of our lives-..and he said he didn’t want any of the fakeness . We had been trying to cheer him up , but now he wanted us to be with him to be sad with him to let things hurt ,the most honest , most raw state I have ever felt. he said he’d miss our wee boys– who he was with nearly every day of their lives so far. What he really needed was a mum, and I had to become her. Once of his very last words that he said with all the air he had left was Uigedail- a whisky that he wanted right then and then I put on music to make it easier, relax us all , I said to squeeze my hand if he wanted it as the lights on his building went out one by one . We stayed the night, me and mum – in a big huge windowed room in the hospice by the sea and watched the pink sky and blue boat sail past and had some rubbish sleep. Like a wounded lion rustly and weak , long and drawn out and thinner and thinner and I realised that courage doesn’t always roar. I held his hand and held his hand and told him we’d talk about him every day , and held his hand tighter with my head to his head. the first thing language we have and the last to go. The nurse said you can do this and pulled me in , holding my hand tight and she sat on the bed I held her hand for strength and solidarity and my dads hand for love and hopeful peace. He looked cute–baby blue top and his floaty blonde whisp of hair at the front sticking right up – I put my hand on his chest after his last breath .The wind gone from his sail , the little blue boat. I felt really honoured to be there. I told Rudy, his 3 year old best pal and we held eachother in the garden – still and silent for longer than ever . I Told Alfie after school and we hugged on the beach. Through blurry eyes I saw the most crowded room, packed in gentle colours liked we’d asked he would have been delighted with all the lovely people. A quiet gentle guy – a strong presence who everybody liked. I saw yellow – sunflowers everywhere. We miss your giggle . To the kids how do you explain a cremation ? We went with honesty from start to finish and I say to the kids without any religion– I don’t know after that– do you? And I explain what some people think but .. Looked up eyes right up to the right to this care bear, fluffy rainbow cloud and I say I just don’t know. I see you in wildlife, in robins and yellow flowers and blue dragonflies , once we alll saw you in an actually magic white owl and in the strongest rainbow from start to finish that didn’t leave us for hours ,just wouldn’t fade . And Alfie clings to Nino like never before Rudy says it like it is- papa doesn’t need any apple crumble because he’s dead. And I ride really big waves as a real adult and cling to your empty hand.