My father died last week, which as you can imagine came as a bit of a blow. It was a heartattack that took him in the end. He'd been unwell since he was diagnosed with high blood pressure in October but more so when he suffered a stroke over Christmas. Though he was recovering, the inactivity of not being at work made his recovery slow.
I somehow knew I'd be getting the call sometime in the not to far distant future and I knew the second I got a phone call from my brother (he never phones me) that it had happened.
The funeral will take place this Friday. It's all been arranged by a local Undertaker who I'm not sure I can forgive for discussing the arrangements at my mums house whilst wearing Bart Simpson socks and having a mobile that shouts 'Hello Moto' when it rings. Nice fella though. It's just going to be a simple affair unless of course someone has invented the concept of 'Pimp My Funeral' and enters us, but I somehow doubt that.
1 comments:
It's encouraging to see that you have retained your sense of humour in these times.
I hope everything is progressing smoothly as can be, and the funeral goes OK.
Speak soon
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