Thank you for your kind comments and hugs, everybody.
The latest today is that a syringe driver is being fitted, a Macmillan nurse is caring for DIL in the care home and he is too far gone to be moved to a hospice (or to any other place, despite J's bossy sister's somewhat harebrained ideas). As usual, it's not possible to give a time frame, but the mac nurse reckons on days at the most. (Which is what I'd thought, though nobody listens to me...) J is with his dad just now (DIL asleep most of the time now) and will, I think, take this hard. J is definitely not a heart on sleeve type of bloke, but I know...
Little My is quite right: at 97, you can't expect someone to have much of a future. He's been retired over 30 years!!!! The trouble is, he was so spry and active and cheery that he didn't seem his immense age and his offspring presumablly believed he would go on forever. There can't be many men of J's age (nearly 65) whose fathers are still around.
The waiting is nasty though. Our lives have been a bit surreal for the last six months or more, and now we are all back in the strange limbo I was in back in October/November when my dad was dying. J is better off than I was in that he has two siblings and me by his side, where I was marooned in Perthshire with all my family down in Cumbria. That was VERY hard. I wish I'd used this site back then!
I know it's EXTREMELY petty, but I am quite sad that I'm having to give away my precious Brooooce tickets to a colleague: it's not the right time to be going anywhere. I am absolutely gutted about it as it was my 'something to look forward to' after dad diedand mum was/is so awful, and I've wanted to see him play for more years than I can count. Still, never mind. Not the end of the world.
