GOOD, GRIEF.

QUEENSLAND

Mr G had left that morning, to go and sit at our lookout at the beach.

THE call woke me; I fumbled the sheets next to me looking for Mr G; the other half of me, Realising he was missing, I searched for my glasses to focus my vision and then my eyes to focus on the screen; Thinking it was him calling. It wasn't.

It was London area code calling.

I answered. "Hello"

"I need you to come to the UK, babe" The voice on the end of the phone broke and started to cry.

It was then I realized; I was talking to my dad.

I quickly answered, "I love you. I will be there with you soon, dad."

I'm sure we said more to each other; if we did, I do not remember.

The next 24 hours became a big blur.

I sat down on the edge of my bed in shock. "Oh shit, ohhhhh shit."

Dad's never sick enough for me to fly there. He's only 68

Just couldn't function very well after that phone call; I knew had lots of work to do.

First, I called Mr G to come home.

Next on the list, was to call my friend.

Her son was currently at my house having a sleepover with my daughter. They have known each other since they were 4.

I called her ''Dad needs me to go to the UK." I started to break. " I don't know what to do".

She replied. "Okay, don't panic. Do you have any warm winter clothes to take?"

I started to sob, I replied "no it's like 30 degrees today".

She said. "don't worry. I'll be there soon."

An hour later, she came to my house and rescued me.

Took my daughter for a sleepover for the night; delivered me a suitcase full of beautiful winter clothes to borrow.

I opened the bag.

Inside I saw a beautiful, l brand new, black Moleskine notebook on top of all the clothes.

I began to cry.

"You know me so well. Thank you, I will treasure it."

Inside was hand written note, on the first page read.

'We are always with you; near or far. Just look to the sky; and see our star.'

The next few hours felt like minutes.

I tried to make mental notes, but my brain wasn't cooperating.

I had to book flights and with what money? Where was I going to sleep? Had i no choice but to go alone?

I had to get to dad; then work out the rest later.

'Oh my god. I am so not prepared. '

I grabbed my new notebook and started writing.

22nd of January, 2020

Plane ticket.

Money for, everything.

Warm clothes.

Carry on bag.

$20,000.

A driver.

A happy end to this story.

Note: Call everyone you need to before tonight.

Then the questions started. None of which I had answers to.

When will I be back?

How will this work?

How will my Mr and mini cope with life without me or how will I deal with this alone?

Breathe.

Just breathe.

And then breathe some more.

Okay. You need to focus.

More notes.

Call some more people. Tick

Gather funds. ?? Still gathering

Flights booked for 11 pm tonight. Tick

22-hour flight to London stopover in Singapore.

$20,000

Go straight from the airport to the hospital to see dad.

No idea how to get there yet?

BRISBANE

23/24th January - 10 am.

I'm in the sky somewhere in the world so time is going backwards. I will arrive the same day I left.

It's just after midnight.

The lights have gone down in my plane cabin. Just ordered a drink and I took out my notebook and cradle it to my chest.

I left my daughter and my other half; within 6hrs of THE call and my heart is breaking.

I'm going alone.

Wrapped up in love and warm clothes from my friend; I stood at the front door of the airport and kissed Mr G goodbye, I realised as I hugged him, that I was leaving and I had no idea when I was coming back.

I turned around and I walked towards the counter to check-in.

I burst into tears.

I sobbed to the man behind the desk;" I need to get to my father."

The man took my ticket and gave me a whole row to myself on the flight. I guess no one wants to sit next to someone crying sporadically for 18 hrs.

I don't remember waiting for the plane.

I hugged my little black book to my chest. My words to keep me company on this trip, that I call "The journey to the end of the world".

But the reality was, my bestest, bestest friend in the world; My dad, was dying.

Two years previous, his wife had passed and more recently his poor dog. He existed only as a scared, and frail version of my dad that I once knew.

He is my world, how on earth am I going to live if he dies?

Something happened to me in that moment.

I realised I wasn't going to lose him; grief is only relative when you are sad for YOUR loss; because now you have nowhere to put the love; the love you once poured straight into that person, it Can not go anywhere, anymore.

I needed to be there for him. I was going to help him to not be alone; to help him be happy in his last moments.

I laid my head down on the seats and tried my best to sleep.

I dreamt that I was drifting in the wind like a kite.

I was woken up and the sudden huge realisation of what I was doing, where I was going hit me like a tonne of bricks.

SINGAPORE

As the wheels touched down in Singapore. I was still managing to breathe. One breath in front of the other.

I stopped and sat down next to a koi pond inside the airport, waiting for my connecting flight.

I looked at the little black notebook and whispered to it.

"What am I going to do, please, please help me, I don't know what I'm going to do."

My tears wet the cover, I pulled my notebook to my chest once more and smelt the paper.

I stood up as they called us like sheep to board the plane for the next part of my flight.

I grabbed my bag and stared ahead like a zombie.

I found my seat and opened my bag to get my things out. But, Inside wasn't any of my things.

$20,000 was sitting there in my luggage with a note staying

-Here's some help while you figure out what to do.

Underneath was all my things.

I closed the bag.

Are you kidding?

$20,000 tick

I stored it away in overhead luggage; I must be tired I thought.

I fell asleep in my seat before the plane even took off. When I awoke I had started the decent to Heathrow.

LONDON

As I made my way out of the arrivals hall to attempt to find a taxi.

Instead, I spot a driver, in a suit and tie, wearing a driving hat, approaching me; with a sign that had my name on it.

"I have been sent to drive you to the hospital to see your father miss, please, let me take your bag."

Um, personal driver. Tick

In the back of the car, I continued to write.

I wrote dad stories of our life together, funny things he has done and wrote down his favourite songs. I wrote till it was nearly full of us.

My driver took me to the hospital, and then my legs carried me to my dad. Along endless hallways.

Dad was there for the moment I took my first breath; but now he needs me to be there for him in his last moments and to spend a few days with him before he lets go of life.

The next 24hrs made him happy, just to have his sidekick with him.

It was just me and my dad, my stories, and dad jokes; the stories helped him remember his life, and I played music of my childhood.

I held him and told him that he doesn't need to be scared of what's ahead and that love him and I will never forget him. His heart lives on in the little black book.