I would bring my sketchbook with me and sit drawing … chaotic hospital waiting rooms, bedside in busy wards, pinging machines in chemo. Ben sleeping and listening to music or AA Attanasio audio books.

He would reflect his situation and I would write his observations on my drawings … he was a poet and songwriter and words were important to him. He wanted his words recorded to reassure his daughter … so that she would not be afraid.

As the brain tumour slowly strangled his words and his music, we were grateful to have him home with us… his daughter Azure assisting with his care; his friend Craig sorting his music files; the dogs, Chukky and Woody, sprawled awkwardly in the way; his brother Jared quietly playing his guitar; his nieces Lia and Winter drawing imaginary beasts for him; his sister Kaela preparing special food for him; Uncle Graham fondly kissing his hot forehead; Grandparents calling in with warm hugs; Karuna nurses teaching us ‘the meds’; Peace of Mind carers helping out; his father and me sitting through wracking bouts of hiccups.

… he was not alone.