My Blog

For a long time I have been silent on my blog. ‘Life’ has been carrying on with most of my significant events now in my personal life, mainly shared on Facebook.  The last few months I have learned lessons that can apply to us all as human beings and I’d love to share them with you.

1. Know that where you are right now, physically, emotionally, practically, etc. can change in an instance. In September 2025 life was exciting. My husband Mike and I had just begun to look after baby granddaughter Sanada a few days a week as her Mum had gone back to work; Mike was still recovering from a knee replacement operation and was still very much recovering; we had three holidays booked with my parents in the autumn; our house was on the market; everyday was busy. I was loving all my roles! In the early hours of 1^st October I woke with a sickness bug. A few hours later I passed out on the bathroom floor. I needed an ambulance, a week in hospital and am still recovering from a fractured vertebra. Thankfully no surgery was needed but a strict ‘conservative treatment’ with limited movement and loads of morphine! Later the same day my Dad fell down all the stairs at home and also needed an ambulance and hospital stay. Within a matter of hours all babysitting stopped, house was taken off the market and holidays all cancelled. No more busy days for a long while. How would you handle a sudden change in life due to an accident?
   

   I love being a Grandma!

    

2. We speak of risk assessment in the workplace. Do you also consider it at home? I have become so risk aware of any potential trip hazards – are you? What plans do you have in place if you were suddenly unable to work? Mike and I struggled so much during October as neither of us could move well. Thanks to some great friends who literally came to do some basics, we got by. Even my daughter-in-law-to-be did some housework for us whilst Sanada was with me on the bed. Who is your back-up team? As Mike is an Executive Business Coach he was able to work from the sofa. I do some bookkeeping for DiscFlow that I could also juggle depending on how strong I felt. If I had been booked for my talks on perinatal mental health I would have needed to cancel. How flexible is your business? How would you adapt?
3. Do you truly ‘live in the moment’ or are you always a step (or 6) ahead? When you are with a person, are you really ‘with’ them or are you thinking about the next call you need to make or even worse, scrolling on your phone? This is the lesson that my lovely Dad has taught us since he was diagnosed with dementia around eight years ago. As his memory and brain deteriorated, he kept his sense of humour and appreciation for what matters in life. He always loved to be clean and tidy. Prior to his fall he was still able to shower and get himself dressed. He loved food and had become childlike in taking what he wanted, when he wanted it! Mum had to have a secret ‘goodie box’ hidden in the kitchen. Dad loved ice cream and would enjoy a cornet almost every day when we were on holiday. He delighted in just ‘being’. He loved songs, especially Scottish folk ones. At a local ‘Singing for the Brain’ run by the Alzheimer’s Society he was the group clown – he used to be such an introvert until dementia gave him a love of being centre stage. His favourite trick was to put rude lyrics to songs! As a man who was such a gentleman, this was a new trait. He was born in Greenock would increasingly give his home address as where he was born! Thanks to the flexibility of our work, Mike and I had the privilege to spend a great deal of time with my parents. We have so many memories to cherish. Dad was a fabulous example of being in the moment. He couldn’t remember most of the past, had little notion of the future. He lived for ‘now’ and appreciated every aspect of it. He adored baby Sanada and would always comment’ isn’t she lovely’. Do you miss out on the pleasure of ‘now’?

Dad with an ice cream – taken last summer

4. Do you appreciate your loved ones? Although my Dad did not break any bones when he fell, his final deterioration started along with years of living with dementia and being 89.  For around 6 weeks my Mum was at his hospital bedside and then we were told that he HAD to move into residential care as his bed was needed. We were given a choice of two, visited them and had to commit to one of them the very next day. Dad was a very sad and sorry man in the home. He was permanently confused and he continued to decline. I put together a long email to Social Services pleading for him to be allowed home, where we as a family would care for him.  Eventually on 9^th December we succeeded. Within a couple of nights, we recognised that Mum could not manage him alone. We didn’t realise how much he had declined. Mike and I were able to move in to help care for him night and day to avoid him being taken away from home. Some nights we were up 6 times! Between Mike’s knee and my back, we worked out the best ways to help him whilst keeping us all safe. We took it in turns as a family to make sure that his every need was met. As the weeks went by the number of professional carers increased along with district nurses on speed dial. On Sunday 18^th January he took his final breath. Mum always said that he had come into this world unwanted and unloved. She was determined he left it feeling wanted and loved. We achieved that as a family. On one of the many nights that Mike and I helped him, Dad asked if he was going to die. Mike reassured him that he was safe, warm and loved. He replied ‘Thank you for making it easier for me .. goodbye, goodbye, goodbye’. My Dad has been a constant person all my life. No longer will he be there to potter around the house and garden; to delight in being with his wife and family; to sit stroking the cat. One of the mornings in his final week of life, he opened his eyes to me smiled, took my hand and kissed it, saying ‘hello love’. A precious memory. Who can you make time for today that you would really miss if they were no longer with us? Who can you call just to hear their voice? In our busy lives those who made and moulded us can get missed out. Please pick up that phone or go and see them before it is too late.

Mum and Dad on their wedding day 1st March 1960

My parents and I at my second book launch

5. If someone has made a positive impact on you, do you tell them? As we are grieving as a family, we have been touched by the number of cards, messages and flowers. On a daily basis my Mum will tell us of who has sent something. We had thought that due to Dad’s age very few people would remember him. How wrong we have been! We have had messages from his work colleagues at ICI, St John’s Ambulance and the Fire Service; friends and neighbours from decades ago; relatives that haven’t been in touch for years; people who met my parents on many holidays, to name but a few. Mum just keeps saying how pleased my Dad would have been. Although sadly he would not have remembered any of them in recent years. Why do we leave it until someone has died before we let them know our feelings? Perhaps you still mention a work colleague that retired a few years ago? Why not simply drop them a message to say so? It might just make their day!

Me, Mike, Mum and Dad, Dunoon April 2025

So we will begin to adjust to a new ‘normal’. We were blessed and privileged to have Dad with us for all these years. He was a quiet, lovely man who was very kind, worked hard all his life to care for his family and those he helped in his working life. I know that those of you who have read my books and/or heard me speak at events will know what a support he was through my life. I hope some of my suggestions will be his legacy to continue to be kind and helpful to others.

This is one of the songs we played to sooth Dad during his final weeks.  Sleep well, Daddy.