One year on, and any thought that is gets easier can be instantly dismissed. My eyes still fill with tears even looking at your picture which sits on my dining table. Your grave has settled and is now turfed over. The strong winds have blown over flower vases and none can stay upright. Delroy, I think it is, still leaves a single rose, and the long-lasting flowers still have vibrant colours but those I planted are now hidden by the turf. Soon, I hope, your sisters will put up the permanent stone to replace the wooden cross. It was a vile day yesterday but today the sun is shining. I just wish we could go for a short walk to your favourite spot by the river where you used to take your mother who Sonia tells me is doing well.

39 days on and I am still so full of tears and missing you so terribly. People say the pain will pass but the fact is that even I though you know I loved you, I wish I had said it more often - you said it on your Christmas Cards to me - and held you more often. I was looking forward to spending my retirement doing things together with you, going places, eating out and so on, and did not realise that just 3 weeks on I would be seeing you in hospital and 36 days on you would be dead. And to have died alone!

Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. Ken's funeral was at Our Lady of Fatima, Commonwealth Avenue, White City, London W12 7QR on 26 January 2011, followed by burial at Mortlake Cemetery and a gathering at Acton Vale Community Centre, Beech Avenue, London W3. Please donate to the British Heart Foundation - using Gift Aid, if you are a U.K. taxpayer, can increase the value of your donation by a quarter.