My Dad died.
It's a strange feeling. The last few weeks have been a bit of a haze. Like a bad dream where you think you'll wake up and everything will be OK?
Only it isn't. It's real.
It's like it's happening to somebody else and you're just looking on?
It's where i go from here that's the problem.
It's incredible how much you take for granted until it's gone.
I suppose at the end of the day the old duffer was 78 but God, i wish he'd gotten to 79. Or 89.
One good thing, if you can call it a good thing, is the kindness of strangers. Work colleagues, friends have all been great. Couldn't have asked for more.
Now it's just me and my Mum. Who's not good. No, not good at all.
As Jim-Bob once said, and my Dad liked a bit of Jim-Bob (believe it or not).
Don't get Sick
Don't get Old
Don't be poor
Do what you're told.
Its a fine philosophy.