was in Dad's room -- the nurses had put white flowers on his pillow and he was finally liberated from the respirator -- that octopus-like clamp that had seemed to become so much a part of him -- his head was cold and white but I thank God that his hands were still warm. He had died so suddenly and quietly that his last breath eluded even my mother who was in the sitting room next door. It was probably no different to the thousand breaths before it and in the final hours it was debatable whether he had any capacity for independent breath. But in the end, he slipped away as he had hoped he would -- no choking, no suffocation and no chronic pain. Dad said right from the start that he would opt to be one of the MND sufferers who survived for five years and he pretty well made it. If he had had the luxury of choice then doubtless he would have written his blog entry for 22 October knowing it was his last -- signing off online and from his life on the same day. MND makes no such concessions but neither did Dad grant any in return. He lived up to his motto 'Carpe Diem' and seized every day he could right up to the end. 8 Comments Thank you Miles for this detailed account of how it all happened. It is reassuring to hear the end was, at least, relatively peaceful.Your dad's