Dear All,

I was planning to sit and write a great witty dissertation on the wonderful weekend I spent with my husband in London, shopping eating and having fun. (Ironically I purchased a fabulous new black macintosch and made silly jokes about funerals.)

But I find myself failing as a parents, my mobile rang at one minute to four this afternoon, my distraught es husband his father had died. I was stunned and found myself offering all of greeting card stupid phrases, he'll be better now(he can't he's bloody dead), It was for the best(for who the undertaker).

Getting home I had to deal with three wonderful children who idolised their grandfather, it felt doubly bad as they had flown to Scotland to see him this weekend. He was poorly and in hospital but they had not put death into the equation.

Hot Chocolate and Maltesers were my physical offering, Mimi who is three and known for lack of tact explained how they could share her grandpa, and that my Dad, Grandad La di da is still alive and kicking. (He is I phoned him this afternoon and in usual Ron terms we chatted he then asked me if I could source him a mailing list for people who wanted to run their own business or had already a successful franchise.. he added he would buy me lunch soon. I do so love my dad)

Flissy fifteen is heartbroken, Nick was upset yesterday at his Grandpa's Illness and Tom is using it as a reason to watch the plasma in the parlour.

As a parent I feel exhausted, drained and totally useless.

I can hear sobs coming from a bedroom offer to adminster serious hugs, more hot chocolate, with cream and a flake. Then I may pour myself a brandy and work out how to handle my children tomorrow.

So ring your granddad now and tell him you love him.