January 3rd 2008.   This is the date my dad died.  He was eighty five years old.  A good age I know.  He went the way way he would have wanted. In his sleep and at home and in his own bed. He'd been slowing down for the last eighteen months, but was only really housebound for the last six weeks of his life when he slowly began losing all his strength.  This once strong man, short yet stocky, with hands like shovels, that used to pick me up and swing me around when I was little, push me on the swings at the park, and carry me up to bed when I'd fall asleep on the sofa, waiting for him to come home from his noon shift  down  the pit, could barely walk across the room with out stopping for breath.   He took to his bed on Boxing Day and stayed there, getting up only when he had to go to hospital (begrudginly) for a chest Xray. He'd got a chest infection apparantly.  He was given antibiotics an inhalor and a four day course of steriods. His breathing and colour seemed to improve. Doctor said he was clearing up. But he had this awful rattle going on in his chest. I knew deep in the pit of my stomach, that he was going. The last three days I even had to feed him.   On the evening before he died, it was just me and my mother at the house.  Usually my partner and my sons would also be there. It was absolutely freeezing inside the house as there was no central heating, only a gas fire.  And outside there was an icy wind blowing.  But there was a wonderful calmness in the air. It felt like a warm blanket around us. It was so peaceful.  It hadn't been like that before.  All through my dad's illness, I'd been so upset although I never let it show. I'd silently cry all the way home in the car. My heart would break as I watched him getting weaker and weaker. He wa such a polite, curtious, proud, man.  He never put on anyone.  Always tried to sort it out himself. Hard worker.  He loved working down the pit.  It was like a family down there, he'd say. We had a similar sense of humour, and we'd laugh at slapstick comedy. He  was a stubborn old goat when it came to his health though.  Didn't do Doctors.  I loved my little dad. I miss him more and more each day. I can't believe I'll never see or hear him again.  I wish I could.