Gavin Brian Wells

my father was a smoker, allways had been since he was about 7 years old. my mother also smoked, but had stopped when i was 3 because she couldn't face the idea of telling me and my big brother, sam,aged 16 months older than me at 4 and a half, that she had lung cancer. So she stopped smoking and never had any trouble. She has not smoked a single cigarette since then, and i am so proud of her for doing that, even through the stress and emotion.

we went on a family holiday in brittany somewhere, in france. And my father started getting sore chests and bad reflux, and spent several hours a day behind the caravan so we didn't see him in pain.

my mother obviosly was worried and as soon as we got home, took him toour local GP. Who told him to go to the hospital for scans.

the result of these scans was lung cancer, in the botton part of his left lung. My mother was the strongest person i knew, and she was very rational about the situation, me and my big brother, now aged 6 and 7 at the time of the scans, were asked to stay at our great aunt and uncles house, who have allways been there for us.

Somehow we stayed together as a family, my father had the operation and was put in the clear.

he brought home with him his heart chart, with his heart beat rythem, and there was a message on it for my mum, "my heart beats only for you"

For about a year,he was getting back on his feet, slowly recovering from the operation,untill one day, my mother found that he had started smoking again.

Again she was very good about this, all she did was spray perfume on the ciggarettes and left a yellow-sticky-note on the box for him.

Wich read "us or them". he continued smoking, but my mother, bless her, was in love with my dad, so much in fact that she stayed with him, right untill the end.

The end was called about a month or so after more scans, wich showed terminal cancer to his lungs, brain, and the top of his spinal cord.

my mother proposed to him, and he said yes. they planned to get married in england then honeymoon with me and my big brother in jamaca.

he was allways ill, but he was great, never showed it, never showed us that he was in agony.

But i knew it, because i had the bedroom next to his. Every night i heard him, sobbing and puking, willing the pain to stop.

By now, me and my brother knew all his medacine names by heart, we knew the dosages and when he needed to take them. We knew what to do in an emergency aswell, but that was never needed.

On the day of october the 30th, 2004 he built a shed, then he got a bit of a headache, so he went for a lie down.

by now we all knew and accepted that he wasn't going to get better, and we all made the rest of his life as good as we could.

so on this day, the 30th of october, maby just past lunch-time, possibly 2-3 o'clock, my mother went into his room and found he had slipped into a coma.Very peaceful, like he was just in a regular sleep, my mother knew this was the end for him, and i marveled how she kept her head.

I allways knew that he wasn't going to make it, somehow i had understood and accepted that even before he was told it was terminal.

So we were called into the living room where my aunt and uncle were allready there waiting for us, to take us to their home in kegworth, about a maximum 20 minute drive.

We stayed there untill my mother called us, first time to ask how we were.we were all quiet, but o.k .

I remember asking my mother not to play around with me, just to tell me the fact, straight on, when he died.

She called a few minutes, or hours later, it seemed like an eternity, and my uncle saud to me, sophie, listen, so i took the phone and heard 3 words , he is dead.

None of us said a word as we got back into the car, and drove in silence back to my house, number 73, prestop drive. Ashby de la zouch. LE 65 2nb.

I will never forget that address.

We got to the house, and i just went straight upstairs, i knew where he was without being told, it was where he was meant to die.

In the littlest bedroom at the end of the hall, next to mine.

I remember seeing his body, just like it was when he was asleep, but with a difference, he was stone cold, and so pale, so, so pale.

i never cried, i'm not that sort of person, i went to the top of his bed and collapsed onto my knees, i stroked his nose, like i allways used to when he was cuddling me down for the night, then i kissed him on the forehead and told him i will allways be his little noodle( his special name for me). And i said goodbye.

i love you daddy.