I read news about Natasha Tretheway being named poet laureate this morning. The name was unfamiliar until then but it was not too hard to find some of her poems to read. The Elegy dedicated to her father took on a very personal meaning for me today. My father was in an accident earlier this morning and now recovering in a hospital. It has been a few years since I saw him last. The picture of him laying unconscious and covered in mud in the middle of a busy market place kept coming back to me as I tried to carry on with a lunch meeting. The realities of his life could not be more starkly different than mine. Yet, there was a time when our lives were one, I lived in his world and in his protection. It is hard to fathom that my biggest source of strength may now be vulnerable.