28th February 2007 - My Jeannette

He took my breath away today. I was stunned. He was talking about how he'd felt when he saw me that morning - I'd tapped him on the knee to wake him. He said "I was sleeping and dreaming badly and then I woke up, and saw my Jeannette smiling down at me and everything was alright" and I wanted to weep. I'm not his Jeannette, but it doesn't matter, he needs me, or rather he needs someone and I'm the one that's around to be there. He's sad, he's lonely, he's dying and I'm his Jeannette. Sometimes I'm Viv Lumsden, occasionally Jackie Bird, regularly my Mum, but I'm his Jeannette sometimes. It's awful, it's achingly sad that it's taken him dying for us to get to a point where - sometimes - we love each other.

Today I knew my Dad loved me, and I loved him. Today was a good day.