Darryl and I often said that our life, over the past seventeen years, had taken on the quality of being on a roller coaster. There were so many adjustments we made, changes that were necessary as we faced one crisis after another. Our trip to Europe in 2001 was the ultimate roller coaster ride. We hired a car and 45,000 kilometres and six months later arrived back in Paris. We never had one forward booking because we said that if we did not know where we were going we could not get lost.

During those last days in Paris we caught the train and visited Paris Disneyland. Over the years I had steadfastly refused to go on roller coasters and I can have panic attacks if I am so much as ten feet above the ground. I recall crying because I did not want to ride the cable car up to the famous Ice Caves in Austria but Darryl coaxed me and I am so glad that I saw that wonder of the world.

So it took Darryl totally by surprise when, like a crazed woman, I insisted we go on all the rides at Disneyworld. I was not overly impressed with the place and it was simply a matter of extracting value for money.

The ride was spectacular to say the least. Happily we were in the dark but the camera caught it all, captured so perfectly our life, our roller coaster ride.

Needless to say this photograph took pride of place on the alter in the room on the day of Darryl’s funeral.

Heather Blakey