To write gives me someone to tell, even if this is never read, it weirdly gives me comfort.  My emotions are totally shot, I don't know how to feel anymore.  My Dad, the man who cared for his family like no other, is in my sons bedroom struggling to survive.  I know the next stage of this is the hardest and I don't think he has the strength.  He hasn't eaten in two weeks.

This morning, I made him soft boiled eggs, a sprinkling of salt and a little bit of bagel toasted on the side (with just a scraping of butter he would say if he had the strength).  I prepared it in the same was as I did for my children when they were little, heck, I still do this for Cassidy some mornings before school.  I've left it on the side like I have every day for the past week, hoping that he will at least try.  I have learnt over the days that I can't ask him anything, If I do, he tries to shout at me and tells me to leave him along.  I'm shaking now whilst typing this, I woke initially thinking I felt better, and I do, but it is still here. Shall I go in and check on him? Will he still be breathing? Will he be cross if I ask him to take the paracetamol or try an egg?  His breathing is laboured now, I knew it would be, he isn't trying to cough up all the phlegm that is building up inside his lungs.  His stats yesterday were at 92 good for Mum with COPD, not good for him. 

My kids are starting to struggle, Cassidy and Luke stayed up till 4pm playing games, I think Fortnight.   Thank God I have enough energy to make myself a cuppa as I couldn't wake them, I feel happier that they are sleeping, maybe when they wake up things will look better?  I keep thinking that this all sounds so dramatic, I keep thinking that these words and thoughts are made up in my head, but it's all real, I was never very good at writing stories anyway.

My pile of kittens is getting bigger everyday, they are just over two weeks old, purring and starting very slowly to wander from their nest.  Jessie the dog loves this, she rounds them up like a little tiny sheep dog, her favourite time is when Amber goes outside for some fresh air so that she can take the 'Mummy' lead.  

I hope my Brothers OK  He has been one of my rocks throughout all this madness.  He has had a fever and Rachel has shut him in his own room and wont let him out.  Robin said that she is sliding matzo under the door as it's the only thing that fits.  Rachel is very high risk and she mustn't just mustn't get this, she is quite frankly terrified, like us all.  I've been calling Robin, he has been so supportive, caring and loving and doing all he can from afar.  Those who know us well will understand the bond we have.

I've open my blinds in my room, Mum just told me to.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing and a plane just flew by.  I wonder who's in it and where it's going as most airports are closed. I can hear Amber mewing at the back door along with her male friend I do believe, I do hope she can't get pregnant again whilst she is feeding?  

To go up and down the stairs feels like I've just walked another 5k of The Great Wall of China, in fact, that was easier!  But I have to go and let her in.

The crows are loud.  I keep looking out for a sign for Mum.  My friend Alison swears that whenever she sees a Robin Red Breast that it's her Mum coming to say hello.  I was sitting at my desk in the office for a moment yesterday, saying hello to my bearded dragon when something hit the window hard, I think it was a bee, it could have been a bird, it could have been a sign from Mum but I'll never know - how do you 'believe'? 

The view outside my bedroom window is one of my favourites, nobody knows this.  I must have a hundred photos of sunrises and any time of the day shots of the two tall trees that I look at every day of my life.   It's even more beautiful now that the massive Spruce that took most of my light in my room and the rest of the house to be honest has been cut down by the neighbours.  I've wind-chimes in my trees, I love to hear them but always wonder what the neighbours think, many tiimes I thought I should cut the tinkling, especially in high winds, but maybe, just maybe that sound can be Mum?

The fresh air coming into my room is wonderful, my lungs feel cooler and less angry today, Robin said that I am suffering with Shock Lung  (Acute respiratory insufficiency syndrome), I went to look this up but then quite quickly changed my mind.  I have lost my sense of taste and smell completely, this just happened last night when I couldn't taste a square of Green & Blacks chocolate so I didn't finish it - unheard of, even at my sickest!  I know when you have the flu or a cold you can't taste but isn't that just because you are bunged up with cold?  My airways are clear, well, my nose is anyway.

I'm feeling pretty weak again, my brother now has the virus and I am trying to get him to come here so that we can take care of him so he is away from Rachel.  He is as stubborn like his Dad so I doubt he will listen to me either.

It's hard to respond to close family and be truthful.  I don't like negativity and my Dad has always taught me that 'things will pass' right now, it's very difficult to withhold.   I always knew that Dad wouldn't live without Mum but I am praying that it doesn't end this way. Today is their 63 Wedding Anniversary.

Poor Savannah, she suffers with a bad back but helping get her Pa up the stairs after he collapsed in my driveway has truly aggravated it, she is walking around the house like an elderly woman desperately trying to help.  She has taken some pretty strong pain killers but nothing is alleviating the pain.  She also has the onset of a sore throat.

I have been praying, so many prayers, so many people doing the same.  It's like that film God Almighty where all the emails come through and so many voices in his head that he doesn't know which one to answer first.  The whole world is praying right now.