My mum died on 6th December 1996. The circumstances were Ironic.

For several years my mum had been suffering from angina and had a weak heart.
My parents were sat watching TV and at about 9pm in the evening my dad got up out of his chair. As he stood he lost his balance and fell to the floor. My mother on seeing this assumed he was having a stroke and panicked. As a result of the adrenaline rush and the panic she had a massive heart attack and collapsed.
My father had now managed to get to the phone and phoned my brother. He rushed round and tried to revive mother, but by then it was too late.
The paramedics pronounced her dead.
My father was taken to the hospital.

At home I was in the shower and didn’t hear the phone ring, my wife took the call and had to give me the news. Of course I was upset and devastated.

We went to the hospital to see my dad, at that point my memory is a little hazy, I remember talking to my dad as he lay on a trolley in a cubicle in the A&E.

(Even now I find it painful writing this, I was ok when I started but now I am finding, trawling through those memories upsetting. Part of my defence mechanism is to push these things to the back of my mind.)

Dad did have a small stroke, and with the correct medication he was out of hospital after a couple of weeks or so, but not in time for mum's funeral.
We had to reassure my dad that it was not his fault that mum had died. It has taken him years to come to terms with what happened. Possibly, in the back if his mind, I think he still blames himself for the tragedy.

It was just a very unfortunate chain of events.

I still miss my mum. Her death has left a gaping hole in my life.