Her desk

Strange to think she will never sit at it again
This morning (or at least it was this morning when I took this picture, if not as I write these words) we went back to the hospital. Mum was sleeping and we , me and L and my sister, sat around her bed. My father told her he was going out for a paper, and as he told us later, she squeezed his hand before he left. As the three of us sat there, my mother slept on, her breathing slower and slower, until she very peacefully slipped away. The nurses went to look for my father, already on his way back and he arrived moments later. We are all certain that he was the last person she was aware of, squeezing his hand to say goodbye, quietly passing away while he was gone.
We stayed a while in the room, and then made our way back to the house.
Since her cancer diagnosis almost a year ago, we knew this was coming. She had done well with the chemotherapy and until very recently seemed to be recovering her strength a little. So, despite expecting it, it was still a shock. I guess it always will be. But it was very peaceful in the end. I don't believe she was in any pain, and in those last hours the nursing staff at Ninewells were wonderful. Both looking after her and us. I need to send them that card I bought to thank them - the nursing staff in Ward 3, Ninewells Hospital, Dundee.