my dad would have been 70 today. We’ve had a quiet uneventful day, but a nice one. She fell asleep after swimming, and did an hour and a half – after we’d had some food I sat down with her and told her all about her Grandad Mike. It felt right. She repeated ‘Grandad Mike’ straight away, and of course it brought tears to my eyes.

I tried to explain he’s not here, and in H speak, it was “Grandad Mike, gone”. She then wanted to talk about the two doggies on the photo, which helped me compose myself a bit more.

I’m glad I’m starting to talk about it, but just tackling death and everything that comes with it is something I’ve no idea where to start.

It was only later I thought it was even nicer she was singing ‘Happy Birthday’ – I’m sure it wasn’t for dad, but he’d have been so pleased were he still alive.