I’m quite proud of how far I’ve come with accepting house spiders.

They’re not going to hurt us, after all, and though we might see more of them in autumn than any other time of year, they’re not “coming indoors” – they’ve likely always been there, and cannot usually survive outside.

But I confess I’m not so zen about craneflies – the winged, giant mosquito-looking critters I’ve always known as “daddy longlegs”.

These flitting, eerily spindly insects are terrifying for a reason. As a child, playground chatter had it that they carry the most powerful venom of any spider, yet they can’t break our skin to administer it.

Speaking to HuffPost UK, ecologist, conservation scientist, and entomologist Professor Adam Hart of the University of Gloucestershire said this myth is wrong on more levels than I expected.

Firstly, he told us, craneflies “aren’t spiders”.

“They are in the same insect group as house flies and mosquitoes,” he said.

And not only do they not bite or sting people, but they “are not venomous in any way” – never mind being the most venomous spider in the world.

Granted, some people – especially those in America – use the term daddy longlegs for other species, like cellar spiders and harvestmen.

Harvestmen have poison (not venom), which they spray all over themselves when attacked, but this can only kill insects and spiders – and is far from the most powerful toxin in the world.

Cellar spiders can bite and do have venom, but not enough to kill us. The British Arachnological Society said “this species presents absolutely no danger to humans or to pets”.

Though I find the creatures – which apparently love to fly in your face for no reason other than looking menacing – petrifying, Prof Hart points out that they have their place in the ecosystem.

Especially during the start of the colder season, he said, when they can help to provide a vital food source for birds and pollinators.

“They are totally harmless and provide a huge energy boost for insect-feeding birds and mammals at a difficult time of the year,” he shared.

They can also reveal the health of an ecosystem. More craneflies might mean a more diverse and flourishing natural environment, the Natural History Museum said.

“But,” Dr Hart conceded, “they can be really annoying! Keep windows shut and they will mostly stay outside.” You don’t have to tell me twice.

Nicole Kidman is getting reflective about her past relationship with fellow A-lister Tom Cruise.

The Eyes Wide Shut co-stars were married for more than a decade between 1990 and 2001, with the Australian performer looking back on this time during an interview with British Vogue.

“Because of who I married at such a young age, I was thrust into [the spotlight when] I was 22,” she claimed.

“I got married so young,” she continued. “Suddenly I was 22, 23 years old and I had this huge movie star husband. But it just seemed completely natural. We just fell madly in love and it was that simple.”

Nicole admitted: “I remember people saying to me, ‘OK, well this is really going to affect your career.’ I’m like, ‘I don’t care. I’m in love. I want to be married.’ And then I was his ‘wife’ and they were like, ‘See, we told you.’ I’m like, ‘So what? I wasn’t meant to marry the man I love? Of course I’ll throw my career away. I don’t care’.”

Back in 2015, Nicole reflected on how the breakdown of her first marriage led to her career entering a new phase.

“I was running from my life at that time, I wasn’t able to handle the reality of it and as an actor you have this wonderful thing where you can go and get lost in somebody else’s life,” she recalled.

“Out of my divorce came work that was applauded so that was an interesting thing for me.”

Nicole later married fellow Australian star Keith Urban, to whom she was wed for 20 years until their divorce was finalised back in January.

She told Variety earlier this year: “I am [doing well], because I’m always going to be moving toward what’s good. What I’m grateful for is my family and keeping them as is and moving forward. That’s that.”

“Everything else I don’t discuss out of respect,” she claimed. “I’m staying in a place of, ‘We are a family’, and that’s what we’ll continue to be. My beautiful girls, my darlings, who are suddenly women.”

Read Nicole Kidman’s full interview in the September issue of British Vogue.

Vodafone has rejected Zia Yusuf’s call for them to stop donating mobile phone SIM cards which are then given to asylum seekers.

Reform UK’s home affairs spokesman has written to the company’s board of directors warning them that they face jail if his party wins the next election.

It emerged recently that Vodafone has given more than 2,000 SIM cards to the Care4Calais charity, which gives them to migrants arriving in the UK.

Yusuf said: “Vodafone’s CEO is paid £10 million a year while her company hands thousands of SIM cards to illegal migrants in Calais, helping them break into Britain and putting British women and girls at risk.

“I have given her and Vodafone’s board the opportunity to publicly disavow this activity and cut ties with Care4Calais.

“Under a Reform UK government, there will be serious consequences for companies that knowingly facilitate illegal entry.

“Those responsible, including Vodafone’s CEO and company directors, will face criminal sanctions and prison. The company would be removed from government contracts and face regulatory sanctions.

“The days of gilded elites enriching themselves while ordinary British communities pay the price are coming to an end.”

But a spokeperson for Vodafone defended the company’s policy.

He said: “VodafoneThree’s programme provides mobile SIMs to registered UK charities – against strict programme criteria – for distribution to vulnerable people in the UK.

“Participating charities, regulated by the Charity Commission, distribute the six months connectivity to those they identify as being in need.

“All calls, texts and data are for UK use only.”

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Anne Hathaway attended the premiere this past week of her new movie, The End of Oak Street, in Los Angeles, but online, conspiracy theorists were not focusing on the film or Hathaway’s style. Their target was on the actress’ pregnant body.

Hathaway wore a blue top and low-rise jeans that revealed the bottom of her pregnant stomach. Social media comments from the event questioned whether her bare bump was real.

“That belly looks fake,” one top comment from Entertainment Tonight’s post reads, while another on X declares, “Is this what a fake bump looks like? Why does her tummy look so odd?”

In her Instagram post sharing her premiere photos, Hathaway seemingly addressed the conspiracy with her caption that included a peace sign and a kissing emoji: “Fake hair, real bump.”

This is not the first “bumpvestigation” targeting a powerful, famous woman in the public eye. There have also been online conspiracy theories that Beyoncé and Meghan Markle faked their pregnancy bumps or used surrogates.

So why do so many people on the internet believe that women are faking their pregnancies?

The most generous interpretation is that people are confused with what they see online. The ease with which people can make artificially generated photos is making people mistrust photos and videos. Just last week, an AI-generated pregnant photo of Zendaya circulated on the internet before being debunked.

But it’s also likely that these conspiracy theories are in bad faith. Bumpvestigations are a tool to question and challenge the success of women, according to gender and pregnancy researchers.

In the comments, people used the physical shape of Hathaway’s belly button and the size of her bump as proof that she is faking it. And this real judgment about a fake conspiracy is yet another example of how so many people believe they’ve got a claim on a person’s pregnant body, said Elizabeth Weigle, a scholar at the University of Georgia who has researched maternity wear.

“To me, every baby bump looks beautiful,” Weigle said, but noted that people can hold unrealistic beliefs of what a “perfect” bump on a celebrity should look like.

What might also be fueling the internet backlash is that Hathaway, who is expecting her third child, appears happy.

When Hathaway reveals her pregnant body, “it’s a proud-mother flaunt of ‘I feel good in my body, and I’m carrying child.’ That’s why they don’t like it because it is a display of our power and people want to squash that,” Weigle said.

Questioning someone’s pregnancy as fake “is a way to try to upend and delegitimise their status and power and to keep the gender hierarchy of men above women firmly in place,” said Amy Diehl, a gender equity researcher and co-author of Glass Walls.

“It is also another way to send a message to all women that they should stay out of public roles, or their lives, their bodies and their families will be publicly scrutinised in the same way.”

In this way, making people wonder if a bump is fake is meant to shame a woman who doesn’t fit this mould of what a pregnant woman should do or look like, said Jay Daniel Thompson, a senior lecturer at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology in Victoria, Australia, who researches conspiracy theories.

“The ‘fake pregnancy’ allegations might also reflect a deep discomfort at seeing a pregnant woman – and a famous one at that – in public, living her life,” Thompson said.

This policing of pregnant bodies does not just happen to famous ones. “A bare baby bump draws overt attention to the femaleness of one’s body, which is why bump images draw intense scrutiny,” Diehl said. “For this reason, many women at work feel compelled to hide their pregnancy bump for as long as possible.”

One 2022 survey found that one in five mothers have experienced pregnancy discrimination at work, and the finding held across race, income and other demographics.

That’s why women styling their pregnancy so that the bump is the focal point is still radical. How singer and business mogul Rihanna dressed during her pregnancies created a “Rihanna effect” in the evolution of maternity dress because it modelled the message of “Just because I have a protruding bump doesn’t mean I’m not sexy,” Weigle said.

In 2022, Rihanna wore a sheer black, fishnet teddy dress to Paris Fashion Week while pregnant with her first son, and is known for her iconic maternity looks that displayed her bare stomach and used haute couture.

Hathaway, who is dressing more “straight-edge” than Rihanna did, is showing how normal and popular it now is for women to show their pregnant bodies fashionably, Weigle added.

And yet that same normalcy might be causing more fake pregnancy rumours. Weigle doesn’t think bumpvestigations will ever die, because people interpret pregnant women showing their bodies as “a flaunt,” and that bothers people.

The best way to keep the internet ablaze is to keep living your life unbothered, after all.

Since her new movie premiered, Hathaway has continued to highlight her pregnancy during her press tour, more recently in a black top that revealed her bare bump during a Jimmy Kimmel appearance.

“I’m sure she’s going to have fun with this now,” Weigle said about the conversation Hathaway’s maternity wear has started, but noted that she wishes the actress didn’t have to in the first place.

Hathaway’s comeback statement about her “real bump” shows she is “being playful about it, but also, it just makes me mad that she even felt like she had to do that,” Weigle said.

The summer blockbusters don’t stop coming in 2026.

After The Odyssey and Spider-Man: Brand New Day make break records at the box office, audiences could have a new cinema obsession on their hands, and this one doesn’t feature Tom Holland or Zendaya.

The End Of Oak Street is a new action-horror film led by Ewan McGregor and woman of the hour Anne Hathaway, which was met with an overwhelmingly positive response in the lead-up to its release on Friday.

Written and directed by It Follows’ David Robert Mitchell, the film follows a family in 1980s suburbia who notice strange prehistoric goings-on in their idyllic neighbourhood.

Of course, there have already been plenty of comparisons to Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park, but that hasn’t stopped critics from describing the nostalgic romp as “thrilling,” “exciting”, and a “great rollercoaster” of a dinosaur movie in its own right.

After the aforementioned The Odyssey and The Devil Wears Prada 2, it looks like Anne Hathaway has another hit on her hands.

Here is what critics are saying about The End Of Oak Street so far.…

“Even when we’re watching people trying to escape a vehicle being stomped on by a 900lb extinct reptile, The End Of Oak Street feels original and exciting and not, to borrow a little internet lingo, like Jurassic Park’s ‘reheated nachos’.

“It’s one of the best films of the summer. And it didn’t even have to star Tom Holland and Zendaya.”

“Mitchell makes for one of the better Spielberg tribute acts in recent memory. Your inner seven-year-old will have a great time.”

“Just when you thought there was nowhere new left for hungry dinosaurs to rampage, here come producer JJ Abrams and writer-director David Robert Mitchell with a fresh, fun spin on stompy saurian carnage.”

“The film is only 99 minutes, wastes little time getting to the goods, and never stops for a moment to let us realise this is all pretty silly, but really who cares?”

“Everything from the conspicuously faded visual palette — all the better to conjure up that spirit-of-’82 feeling, my dear — to the Jaws-to-Jurassic Park method of withholding the monsters as long as possible reeks of a bygone era of Spielbergmania.”

“The End Of Oak Street is a story about the secrets in our homes, the bloodshed that’s latent in our paradises; about our pride meeting and subsequently being torn asunder by the apocalypse. It’s also the most thrilling dinosaur movie in ages and an ode to the life and sacrifices of dads.”

“I can’t fathom how The End Of Oak Street actually exists, even if it is a perfect example of what the big studios should be doing right now — making original spectacles, ideally ones in which Anne Hathaway fires a rifle at a velociraptor.”

“It still might be too earnest an approach for anyone more interested in a broader meta sci-fi swing. For those who want to check out a genuinely great rollercoaster of a dinosaur movie this summer, however, The End Of Oak Street delivers the best one in decades.”

“The End Of Oak Street may not be the follow-up that fans of Mitchell’s work were expecting, but it’s 90 minutes of edge-of-your-seat entertainment that commits to its concept and entertains throughout.

Big, loud, and guaranteed to make you jump at least once, it’s another eye-catching performance from the always-busy Hathaway, and proof that blockbuster entertainment doesn’t need to follow a franchise formula.”

“David Robert Mitchell delivers the biggest surprise of the summer with the best dinosaur movie since 1993.”

“The End of Oak Street expertly recalls this [Spielberg’s] style of genre filmmaking, right down to its score, choice of lenses, and more. Yet it isn’t mere throwback or homage. Instead, Mitchell has made a highly personal movie that resonates with its depth as much as it delights with its action and visual effects.

“Ultimately, the movie is like an old friend. There aren’t a lot of surprises, but you still enjoy their company. Maybe you haven’t seen each other in eight years or so, but there doesn’t need to be any explanation when you get back together. You know their secrets, warts and all, so maybe they don’t impress you like they used to but damn if it isn’t nice to see them again anyway.”

“The final act is on an entertainment level that the first hour is nowhere close to, delivering tense set pieces and humour (mostly intentional, we think).”

“You could argue that it’s not ‘good’ by conventional standards, but the film has a sui generis oddness that’s rare in summer popcorn productions. That quality is heightened by how hard it is to tell how much of it is intentional and how much is inadvertent.”

“The first chunk of the movie is a teary adventure drama; the last, an amiable group hug. In the middle, Mitchell decides his characters are morons and Oak Street becomes a comedy. Once the audience gets past their disorientation, the slapstick triggers enough silly goodwill that my auditorium squeezed out generous spurts of applause.”

“It is initially amusing but oddly inert; contrived, derivative, commercially driven and weirdly inconsequential, a Spielbergian mashup about dinosaurs running amok in suburbia that doesn’t feel like homage so much as a pastiche produced by an AI Spielbergbot.”

“If you’re looking for carefree summer fun, look elsewhere. The End Of Oak Street is not fun. It’s bleak, brutal, and ultimately infuriating.”

The End Of Oak Street is out in cinemas now.

Denise Welch has announced that she is stepping down from Loose Women.

In a video message posted on her Instagram page on Thursday evening, the Waterloo Road star revealed that she is leaving the panel show 25 years after first appearing on it, to focus on her acting career.

“This show has been part of mine and my family’s life for, well, nearly a quarter of a century,” she explained. “I have the most wonderful, wonderful memories and it’s just that acting has always been my first love and, I think, the thing I’m best at.

“At the moment, I’m having the most wonderful opportunities coming my way, and I’m grabbing them by the you know whats and running with it for this new chapter of my life. So, I just wanted to say that in person.”

She continued: “I’ve shared my life with you, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m very Marmite but I cherish all the comments, good or bad, that I’ve had over the years. And I just hope you wish me well for this new exciting chapter in my life.

“I’ll miss everybody, but I will remain friends with the whole gang – because despite what you might read, we are a happy band of campers.”

Denise concluded: “Anyway, lots of love, and thanks for sticking with me.”

Her Loose Women exit comes at a time the show is already facing scrutiny, with panellist Nadia Sawalha claiming she’s taking legal action against ITV due to them allegedly treating her “unlawfully due to my protected beliefs”.

ITV has not yet publicly responded to Nadia’s claims.

Originally known for her roles in shows like Spender, Soldier Soldier and Coronation Street, Denise first served as a guest panellist on Loose Women in 2001, before joining the show as a permanent presenter in 2005.

She left the show in 2013 amid creative differences behind the scenes, before finally returning in 2018.

In recent years, Denise has appeared in shows like Hollyoaks, Emmerdale and Channel 5’s Benidorm Is Murder, and she’s due to return to the reboot of Waterloo Road in 2026, too.

Earlier this year, she also appeared in the hard-hitting drama Tip Toe, with showrunner and writer Russell T Davies telling HuffPost UK: “She’s gorgeous. And a properly good actor! That’s the point!

“And I think, sometimes, [she’s] underrated as an actor, and that’s what was lovely about [having her be part of Tip Toe]. It was like, ‘come on, come and watch her do her stuff’.”

Outside of her acting career, Denise is also the mum of The 1975 frontman Matty Healy, which has allowed her to garner a new following thanks to her appearances at musical events like Glastonbury, as well as more celeb-focussed moments like Charli XCX’s wedding last year.

Splits within Reform UK have burst into the open despite Nigel Farage’s comfortable victory in the Clacton by-election.

Senior party figures have been left baffled by their leader’s decision not to turn up for the result declaration.

A Reform UK spokesman said: “Essex Police advised Nigel not to attend the count tonight due to a credible threat against him.”

But this was denied by Essex Police sources.

In a statement, the force said: “We have a proportionate and robust policing operation to ensure the safety and security of all participants in the count.”

Addressing supporters at a rally in the early hours of Friday morning, Farage suggested that the real reason for his non-attendance was he wanted to avoid the other candidates.

He said: “I’m damned if I’m going to stand on a stage, having won a resounding victory, a ringing endorsement of all that I’ve tried to fight for, and you’ve tried to fight for, and be demeaned and humiliated by nobodies.”

Farage won with 63% of the vote and a majority of 12,784 over self-styled intergalactic space warrior Count Binface, who came second with nearly 9,500 votes.

Labour, the Tories, Lib Dems, Greens and Restore Britain refused to put up candidates in the by-election, which Farage triggered by quitting as Clacton’s MP last month.

That came after parliament’s standards commissioner launched an investigation into his failure to declare a £5 million gift from a Thailand-based crypto billionaire.

Tim Montgomerie, who defected from the Conservatives to Reform with great fanfare last year, openly criticised Farage’s decision to dodge the count on X.

He said it had been “a very good result” for Farage, but added: “He should be on every TV screen this morning – underlining his win – and with that cheeky, trademark smile on his face. Being the Nigel that so many voters like the idea of hanging out with… in a pub.

“But this recently far too dominant aggrieved tone is still with us. It’s not good. You don’t skip your own victory count without a much better explanation.

“Anger from politicians can work but only if it’s on behalf of others – not yourself. He’s distracting from his victory. Puzzling.”

A Reform source told HuffPost UK it was “not a good look for Nigel to skip the count”.

But Reform deputy leader Richard Tice told GB News: “Ultimately, it was judged by Nigel’s team that there was there was sufficient anxiety, and concern, and threats, that meant that whilst of course he would love to have been at the count, ultimately his security counts for more than anything else, and I don’t think anybody, frankly, should in any way question his… team’s judgment on that.”

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For some people, the joy of a holiday is slightly dampened by the inevitable impacts holidaying can have on sleep. In fact, according to new research commissioned by sleep technology firm Simba has found that over three quarters of Brits 76% find that holiday travel affects their sleep, with over 2 in 5 UK adults finding that tiredness affects the first day of their holiday and more.

Very relatable. The first day of every holiday for me seems to be experienced in a tired and wired daze.

It doesn’t stop there, though. In fact, this tiredness can reoccur once you’re back home in what sleep experts have dubbed a “Holiday Sleep Hangover”.

According to Lisa Artis, Deputy CEO of Simba’s charity partner, The Sleep Charity, the “holiday sleep hangover” describes the lingering effects of travel-related sleep disruption caused by early airport starts and poor in-flight sleep to unfamiliar hotel rooms, changing time zones and disrupted routines

But unlike a traditional hangover, it can strike twice: “once when you arrive on holiday and again when you return home.”

“The holiday sleep hangover has become the hidden physical and mental cost of modern travel,” says Artis.

“Sleep disruption usually starts much earlier and can continue long after you’ve unpacked your suitcase. It’s the combination of lost sleep, changes to routine and, for some travellers, jet lag that can leave people feeling out of sync for days.”

Additionally, if you’re a sucker for an early flight so you can “make the most of the day” once you arrive at your destination, you may be doing yourself a disservice, Artis warns, saying: “If you’re up at 3am for an airport transfer after a restless night’s sleep, you’re already asking your body to function on less recovery than it normally would. That sleep debt can follow you into the first few days of your trip.”

“It can be tempting to over-optimise the night before you travel. But trying to force a really early night can make it harder to switch off,” she explains.

“You end up clock-watching and feeling more alert.”

Instead, she recommends keeping your usual evening routine calm and consistent.

According to Lisa, the most effective approach is getting back to a consistent routine as quickly as possible. That means returning to regular bedtimes, exposing yourself to daylight during the day and avoiding the temptation to stay up late to prolong the holiday feeling.

“Your sleep environment can help speed up recovery. When you’re trying to get your routine back on track, comfort and temperature become important,” adds Arts.

“If you’re waking because you’re too hot, too cold or uncomfortable, it can make recovery feel slower.”

I hadn’t seen my dad in five years when my sister texted me that he had fallen at home. After I had my first child, the childhood abuse I had previously overlooked to keep the peace suddenly became incomprehensible, and I chose to become estranged from him.

But when I found out he was dying, I knew time was running out to reconcile. I didn’t want to regret missing it.

On my first visit to see him, I brought flowers and kneeled by his bedside. He was thin, jaundiced and bedridden. His fine hair was snowy and delicate over his scalp, his movie star cheekbones more prominent than ever. His brown eyes still looked like mine.

But he didn’t recognise me. He stared at me and looked away repeatedly, his expression bewildered and hurt.

“Who are you?” he asked.

I was stunned and told him who I was.

“Is it OK that I’m here, or would you prefer I go?” I asked.

“You can stay. I’m just surprised. It’s been a long time.” There was grief and accusation in his voice.

I wouldn’t apologise for the estrangement. He wouldn’t apologise for the abuse. We wouldn’t talk about the past when death was so close.

When I left, I kissed his forehead and promised I’d be back.

A few weeks later, I signed up to be an early literacy volunteer, teaching young children to read. Once a week, I spent an hour with the students during their lunch break, reviewing the alphabet and helping them sound out words while they ate orange slices and whole wheat pizza.

Then I would spend an hour with my dad at the healthcare facility where he lived for his last five months. We would share a few minutes of small talk, I would feed him small bites of baked fish or tater tots, and we’d watch TV.

The two things were connected. My father’s side of the family is full of educators. My dad was a professor for more than 50 years. He’s the reason I have post-traumatic stress disorder, but he’s also the reason I love literature, travel, art, food and languages. His mother – my namesake – was once a missionary-teacher who rode on horseback four miles every day to reach her students.

“Teaching is a spiritual thing,” my dad said.

I thought volunteering to help children read would connect me to my dad and our family as he was dying. The kids were at the beginning of their lives and education, while my father, the professor, was coming to the end of his.

I volunteered on Mondays. Usually, I visited my father at the end of the week. My weeks were measured in the bookends of life.

There were six schools where I could volunteer – all underfunded and with low reading test scores. I chose the one closest to my childhood home, my dad’s house. I was a kindergartener in that neighbourhood the first time my dad squeezed my wrists so hard that bruises encircled them for weeks.

The school was a rectangular building made with dark bricks. I had passed by it countless times as a child. From the outside, it looked institutional in the late September sun. But inside, I was surprised by how light it was. The hallways were painted white and worn in places with scuffs and pencil squiggles – imprints from students growing up.

Three large trees grew in the foyer outside the library. Their shiny green leaves wove a canopy over the grey and blue tiles where kids walked from recess, lunch and library time. That’s where I met the kids with whom I’d be working, affectionately called Book Buddies.

The volunteer program coordinator handed me two folders, each bearing the name of a little boy. We had two assignments for the day. The first was to complete “getting to know me” sheets. The second was to assess how many letter names and sounds they knew.

I asked them their birthdays, their favorite colour and to draw their favourite food. My first buddy knew the letters in his name but no others. My second buddy surprised me by knowing all the letters and their sounds, but he said them quietly with his eyes downcast.

At the school, there was the squeak of sneakers as kids ran in the hall and the voices of teachers announcing it was time to line up. There were boxes of small books, word games with dice, pencils, plastic utensils and thin straws for chocolate milk cartons.

Over time, I learned my first buddy loved to take a big sip of chocolate milk and burp and then we’d laugh together. He introduced me to his kindergarten friends. In the winter, his boot shoelaces were always undone, so I tied them before he returned to class.

My second buddy rarely made eye contact but read everything I put in front of him perfectly. He was reserved, but told me he lived with his dad and loved reading books the program gave him.

I praised both kids for their reading, hard work and the progress they made.

Sometimes after volunteering, I’d drive by my childhood home. With my father gone, the house stood empty.

At the healthcare facility, there was a crane to lift my dad, who used to hike by the Sequoias near his own childhood home. There were nurses who joked as they spooned medication into his mouth and the blare of televisions playing at full volume. There were cartons of Ensure and automatic hand sanitiser dispensers.

Sometimes my dad seemed stronger. On a good day, we watched Star Trek, and he laughed out loud for the first time in a while. When I left, he called after me in a strong voice, “Love you, honey.”

But organ failure is a rollercoaster with many ups and downs, all heading toward the inescapable end. Mostly, I worried about the emergence of new symptoms like the jaundice and itchiness that came and went. The bones I hadn’t seen before, jutting clavicle and breastbone. Lost fat on his fingers, every knuckle visible beneath the thin skin.

On a cold January day, I was with my dad when he began seizing. The seizures were quick, full-body and terrifying. He didn’t remember them – he just thought he’d fallen asleep for a minute. The doctor said there was nothing else they could do.

Four days later, he was unconscious. His breaths were long, slow and gasping. His TV was off. He had stopped responding to us. I asked my sisters for a minute alone with him. Everything we had left was in that small room.

“I hope that in whatever comes next, you receive the love you didn’t get as a child and you’re able to give that love to yourself and others in return,” I told him. “If there’s regret or anything else you’re carrying, you can put it by the wayside. You don’t have to carry it for me.”

He died the next morning. After he took his last breath, I watched the pulse in his neck grow fainter until I couldn’t see it beating under his skin anymore.

“Dad, I’m just going to check your pulse, OK?” I said. I placed two fingers on his neck – a place I had never touched before – and felt no movement.

Before the funeral home director placed him on the gurney, I kissed his forehead one final time and then wept.

Depleted by grief and the paperwork that accompanies a parent’s death, I didn’t return to volunteering for a month. Sometimes I’d look at a photo of my dad from when he was 5 years old – the same age as my own son and my volunteering buddies.

In the picture, my dad wore a black cap over his dark hair, and his left hand was in the pocket of his checkered coat. Although I knew he had an unsafe, loveless childhood, he beamed a proud smile. I wished I could go back in time to protect that little boy.

When I went back to the school, my first buddy walked up to me with his lunch tray and a mildly scolding expression on his face.

“Where have you been?” he asked, as if I were a child who missed curfew.

“One of my family members was sick,” I said, smiling. “I’m back now.”

I was glad to be in the school, reading with the kids under the trees in the foyer. One day, as I arrived, my buddy was standing in the lunch line. He saw me, exclaimed to a friend, “That’s my Book Buddy!” and ran to hug me.

Later, when my second buddy caught a cold, I gave him tissues to take back to class because I knew he’d be too shy to ask the teacher. I helped another student carefully cut out a booklet for herself to take home to read. I made sure one of their classmates didn’t leave behind her lunchbox.

Little acts of care I wish had been given to the children that my father and I once were.

On the last day of volunteering, we held a party in the school library. I helped my buddies don plastic gold medals and paper graduation hats. We gave them backpacks with books, a toy keychain, bubbles and a red bracelet that said, “I love to read.”

“Do you love to read?” I asked my buddy, who was now reading several levels ahead of where he began.

He looked down bashfully and nodded with a smile, his two front teeth missing. We listened to a story about joyriding farm animals and played sight word bingo with candy. Then I tied his shoelace one last time, wished him a great summer, and watched him walk back to class.

I realised that while a child cannot heal their own parent, I could give that care to my kids and to other children who needed it. It was too late for my dad, but it might be right on time for them.

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