The last time my parents were coming down for Christmas (2007) my dad had a fatal stroke on the way and never made it. We have just about come to terms with his death and Mum was about to make the same journey to Kings Cross (where we would meet her) but she has suffered a mild heart attack and is now in hospital in Lincoln. The curse of Christmas? She will apparently still be o.k. to visit, but we'll have to go and fetch her in our old diesel-fume-belching Volvo - and snow is forecast. This must be the first time I've prayed not to have snow at Christmas. D flies back from the States tonight, with a 7 hour wait in New York; last week planes were grounded there because of the snow. I don't want to be stuck on an icy road in a traffic jam with my poor Mum either.
Not so much of a moan as a sob escaping from a not-very-stiff upper lip:-(
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