Today was Fathers Day. I went to see my Dad. It was probably the last time I will see him.
He is 94. The cancer has spread to his whole body. There is nothing more they can do.
We live six hours away.
It is so sad to see the person you have known your whole life just lying in a hospital bed waiting.
So frail. So weak. So helpless.
But he still remembers old times. We took a card with a drawing of a place he knew long ago.
We talked about cars. He had a garage. Cars were his working life.
We talked about our plan to buy an electric car, and how the battery technology is getting better and may one day be good enough to get to him on one charge.
He has never been in an electric car. Now he never will.
He has never flown in an Spitfire. He always wanted to.
Before the garage he was in the RAF. But he never got to fly in a Spitfire.
Leaving was difficult and fumbly. My dad was getting tired. We didn't know what to say.
I knocked over the water jug onto the bed.
The nurses came to change the sheets.
We said goodbye.
I am glad I did.
My mum died was I was 22 and I didn't get to say goodbye.
That was my greatest regret...
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