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In England, my father dying

In England, my father dying

My father reached his 91 birthday in a nursing home having just had a stroke. I don’t have many photographs of him. I have not spent that much time with him. I went away to school when I was 8, then to university, then travelled widely before settling in Australia.

We managed to have a few holidays together and one was cruising down the Nile:
Struggling past Nefertiti, alabaster pyramids, fake turquoise and hieroglyphs,
you board and ask, ‘Am I disturbing you?’ “Don’t be daft, I rarely see you . . . 

He was a quiet man who rarely laughed – I have one rare blurred image:

dad laughing, England May 06

But he was often in hospital, and toward the end couldn’t walk and couldn’t see the ball when watching his beloved Stoke City.

nurse 2009 dad hospital_w 2009 dad and mum hospital check up_w

Holding hands
Mum holding dad’s hand in the nursing home
May 2006 mum, dad, JB_w
May 2006, a rare photograph of me with mum and dad

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