I had a dream last night about my late father and it reminded me of the stories he told me as a child. My favourite was about Tom Thumb, he said that Tom lived in the Bluebell woods on Birkwood Road, just over the river. For years I believed the story and often went into the woods to see if I could find him, never did of course.

In my dream Dad had come to collect me, he said it was my time and he was taking me on to my new home. That I would love the home and be happy throughout eternity. I have not been too happy since Dad died, and have been unable to mourn him, not saying there havent been happy times, have occasionally.

Just after Dad died I had a dream that I died, Dad was sitting by my bed and told me to be strong, that it was not my time and I had to go back. My job wasnt finished and there was important things I had to do. Goodness knows what. While I was having this dream my daughter came into the bedroom and tried to wake me, she said I wasnt breathing, think I was, just quietly. At times when I was first diagnosed with asthma, I did wake up in the night after gasping quite loudly, my doctor explained why, but for the life of me I cannot remember the medical term.