I am looking at my diary and wondering if I can return to das Boot sooner rather than later. The good thing about being freelance is that you can take time off. The bad thing is that when you do, you don’t get paid.
But having discussed Mother’s ashes with Older Nephew who is going to think about the issue, our minds naturally enough turned towards my father.
He was a fit man though an ex smoker, an ex Royal Marine Commander, a man who was always on the go. Barely a year after retiring he suffered a subarachnoid haemorrhage from which physically he recovered well. But it shook him. Suddenly his body had let him down. Mentally it took longer.
Then he had a minor stroke and instead of being on a neurological ward with a specialist team around him, he was on a general ward in the local hospital. He lost his speech, and when he got it back he was less than polite about the professionalism of some of the nurses.
His third stroke killed him. He was seventy. It’s not old. Not old enough. But I keep hearing of people dying in their fifties, their sixties, their early seventies. So I think when I want a break from work to head for das Boot, unless there is a compelling reason not to, I should go.