Yesterday started on an emotional note; I’d finally caught up with Saturday’s Guardian magazine whilst making an early morning cup of tea (visitors have been arriving in droves at Hotel H since the middle of March. It’s been lovely to catch up with everyone, but it’s been quite tricky trying to fit everything in). Then I turned to ‘Saying goodbye with my camera’, Briony Campbell's moving record of her father’s death from pancreatic cancer and just couldn’t hold back the tears – it was just like saying goodbye to my own dad again and brought back so many memories. Maybe I should be ‘over it’, (and a few regular readers of this blog will probably think, ‘God! Here she goes again!’). But I honestly don’t think time is a healer. It feels as if Dad’s been away too long and I just wish I could talk to him. Quite simply, there’s a huge hole left in my life that can never be filled and I just try not to fall in it too often. Anyway, I pushed the tea past the lump in my throat, said hello...
Christine Stovell, author and freelance writer, on living and writing in West Wales