In Kevin's own words:
I would like to think I have fought a long and brave battle against the big C, far exceeding my original life expectancy. When I was first diagnosed my children, Elin and Alastair, were only 6 and 3. Not fair I said, we have such great plans. I wanted to experience as many good times with my family as I could. Watch them blossom and grow. Give them the benefit of my wisdom and have them learn from my mistakes. This I determined to do to the best of my ability but in a much shorter time frame. So
although I knew from the outset I would never win the war I was determined to win as many battles as I could along the way and stick around for as long as possible. This I duly did, overcoming numerous surgeries, chemotherapies and radiotherapy. Despite being a self confessed “grumpy middle aged sod” with a sense of humour drier than dry Jock McDry on an exceedingly dry day, I don’t think I complained much about my predicament, about my diagnosis, prognosis, side
effects etc. I just spent my time continuing to moan about everything else that was wrong in the world! Looking back I think we succeeded.
Not being one blessed with too much original thought I will sign off by adapting Terry Pratchetts final tweets, which I found very poignant and funny at the time of his passing:
“AT LAST, KEVIN, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER. BUT IF YOU ARE GOING TO TRY AND BE FUNNY, ALBEIT AT A MOST INOPPORTUNE OF TIMES, AT LEAST MAKE IT AMUSING”
“I was just thinking how well you look Mr Death, have you been ill recently? Given the circumstances I was rather inclined to give you a nasty look. But I see you already have one.”
Kevin took Death’s arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert under the endless night