
My husband Desmond and I knew that we would eventually have to leave the house that we’ve called home for the last 45 years. Neither of us wanted to - Desmond especially - but even he knew, deep down, that it was the right decision. Accepting this was difficult and painful, but necessary.
In the midst of planning this, Desmond died, without ever having to leave the home he loved, which is a small comfort. Although it does mean I will now be doing this on my own.