Anthony Yarde Quotes

I knew that my father was going to die of heart disease, and I was trying to make a heart for him.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer, so we ended up burying him a year to the day that he was diagnosed.

The biggest tragedy I had was the loss of my daughter from neuromuscular disease in 2000, at age 46.

My main memories of my father are of his illness.

My father died five days before I returned to New York. He was only fifty-three years old. My parents and my father's doctor had all decided it was wiser for me to go to South America than to stay home and see Papa waste away. For a long time, I felt an enormous sense of guilt about having left my father's side when he was so sick.

In 1990 I had a nasty car accident and in 1994 my husband Ron Edgeworth died of motor neurone disease.

Then my mother was taken ill and died and my father took me to St. Mary's.

The worst day ever was when I found out my grandfather was going to die.

When you go through a long illness, certainly one of cancer, there's a certain release from it and relief that it has come to an end, because the suffering can be unbearable, as opposed to an abrupt stop to life when they go out the door and there's a loved one who never comes home because of some accident.

I know I am at the end. I shall never get better, dear.

I had some really dear friends who died from AIDS-one in particular. His family wasn't around and he didn't have many friends. I spent a lot of time with him in his later days.

In truth, I barely knew my father at all. He was 53 when I was born, and when I was ten he contracted cancer. Eight years later, in 1979, he died.

A death from a long illness is very different from a sudden death. It gives you time to say goodbye and time to adjust to the idea that the beloved will not be with you anymore.

I don't know why Alzheimer's was allowed to steal so much of my father before releasing him into the arms of death. But I know that at his last moment, when he opened his eyes, eyes that had not opened for many, many days, and looked at my mother, he showed us that neither disease nor death can conquer love.

My dad died of a stroke.

My wife Lucy was very sick for nearly three years prior to her death. At one time, I was in the hospital with her for six months.

My father died when I was only five years old, and that was the moment when I learned a cruel lesson that tomorrow, in fact, might not be another day.

I was 28 when my father died, and I was an only child.

My father passed from cancer in 2000; his brother died of cancer before that. My grandfather died of cancer.

My mother battled cancer for 12 years before losing her fight.

I think some people do want to die, and they will get a disease. There are people who know their lives are so troubled, and their bodies are getting them out of here.

I don't want to lose my legs, you know. I don't want to be wheeled around in a wheelchair. I don't want to be attached to a catheter. I saw all that stuff happen to my father, and as much as it upset me because I loved my father so much, it also really traumatized me.

My son has died of AIDS.

My mom had a heart attack, and it came out of nowhere - she was 54. My dad had leukemia for about 3 months. He was 80 when he passed. My dad had me later in life, and so he had leukemia and was alive for about 3 months between diagnosis and passing away.

I was 9 years old when my father - a strong, vibrant man in his early 40s - died of a heart attack. He was such a central figure in our lives that losing him was a terrible shock to all of us, my mother in particular.