Leaning tower

My former boss's daughter called us today, I think needing to talk to someone outside the family about her father's condition. We heard just this week that he has pancreatic cancer, which has metastasized, and has at most 2 or 3 months to live. So terribly sad to hear this about such a special friend. We spent a night with him in Holland on our way back from the UK in December and although he looked rather grey and was unusually serious, we put it down to the late night and early start (he came to fetch us at Schiphol but we missed each other, then took us back there early the next morning to catch the flight home). We only learned today that he has been unwell since last year and had cut short trips abroad (he had planned to stay with us, but cancelled). Now he's in hospital, receiving 24-hour care, though he hopes to go home for a week or so.

It was lovely, though, to talk to his daughter. We've known her since she was three, but haven't seen her since she stayed with us for a while when she was 18. Like most 18-year-olds, she caused us a few worries at the time, but all was well in the end. Now she's a lovely, warm mother and home-maker, sounding so like her own wonderful mother, who died tragically some years ago. She's planning a photo album of happy memories for her father. I've already sent her the one above, taken some 27 years ago, with HH is at the bottom of the pyramid, our older daughter at the top, and N in the middle. This one sits on my desk, now I must root out the albums and scan some more.