It is a privilege to be present when someone dies. If only I'd seen it that way, it would have helped me no end | Adrian Chiles

I have received many lovely messages in the weeks since my dad died - including one that will always stay with me

I need to stop banging on about death and dying, I know, or people are going to start crossing the street when they see me coming. But there is one more thing I need to share. I've had many nice texts and emails from friends close and distant over the last few weeks since my dad died. Here's one that I stared at for a long time. It came from a woman I've known for 50 years, since we were kids on holiday at the seaside. Our families had neighbouring caravans on the same site on the Gower peninsula way back in the last century. Our parents were close friends; three of the four of them are no longer with us. Actually, no longer with us" is a truly crap phrase. I will not be using it again. Those we love are forever with us, obviously. Anyway, this is what she wrote. She speaks, by the way, in that astoundingly sing-song variant of the south Walian accent spoken by people from Neath.

Just read your article about losing your dad. As a nurse I have been privileged to see many pass away. It's different when you love the one who passes. Your emotions will be all over the place for a while. I still have days. It does get easier and I have learned to now see mum and dad in my dreams. Sometimes, I don't want to wake. Everyone around you loves you, use their shoulder. Sending love, thinking of you.