The Painful Duality of Hope and Fear

After an aborted operation and a discouraging oncology appointment, my dad decided that was enough. He wanted to spend whatever time we had left at home together until the end. The words cancer and death quickly became a part of our daily lexicon. My brother moved into my one and a half bedroom flat. And I set myself up in the single room next door. Our lives became small and strangely cocooned. Keeping my dad out of pain well fed and in good spirits was all that mattered. Watching my dad die taught me fresh lessons about how to live.