This weekend I went home. The home where my parents still live and the home where, when I return I instantly get a sense of belonging.  No matter how old I am it will always be my home.

Since Dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness returning home has taken on a completely different meaning.  I’m not looking for any sympathy here as I’m no different to any other family going through this, but I wanted to share my thoughts and feelings since I've returned to my own little family.

It suddenly hit me that out of something so heartbreakingly sad like my Dad dying, there really is something equally positive and beautiful to come out of it.  Dad heroically fighting a terminal illness has made me assess my own life and has reignited those dreams and passions I’d buried deep down as life got in the way. I’ve found my purpose again.

What we’re going through has reconnected us a family and I’ve finally realised (at the grand old age of 44) what really is important in my life.  I know that it’s not the big salary, car, house and holidays (although don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t say no to a big lottery win) but it’s the little moments of kindness, love, belly laughs and cuddles.

Dad's made me realise that it’s not what you know in life but who you know that defines you.  Everyone that comes into our lives leaves us with a part of themselves and we become an eclectic mix of all of these influences.  It's made me think about what my own children will take from me.

I find it ironic that it's life itself that gets in our way and stops us from taking a breath and realising what we want out of it, and only when faced with some kind of adversity do we find the strength and courage to make changes.  

Our world is changing right before our very eyes and the one thing I’ve learnt this weekend is don’t wait. Wake up every morning living the life that you dreamt about and let your happiness and positivity help define your children.