My Dad and I had gone to the Alpha office in the pack house, retrieved the lock box of which he had spoken of and walked back home. The fresh air and time in the sunshine would likely do him good. Upon returning home, I had helped him into his pyjamas and got him into his bed for a rest so we could look at the photographs together.
I could see my Dad was on edge. How long ago was it since he had looked at these photos? The lock box was dusty, so I assume it had been down there for many years. Perhaps too painful for him to look at? I could understand that. I didn’t even have a photograph of my beautiful mate to look at.
We opened the box. Laying it next to my Dad on the bed, he was propped up against some pillows so he was sat upright. I sat next to him on the edge of the bed. He passed
