My Dad, shortly before I was born.
And before you ask, no, he wasn't part of the Italian Mafioso.
Last Thursday morning, 9 A.M comes a knock at the door. I wasn't sure if i dreamt it. So I look out the window to see a Police car and then my Mum calls me down.
To be honest when it happened i thought I was being nicked for possesion. And then he tells me I better sit down and I notice my Mum is in tears. My first thought is that my Brother is dead. He would have been on the motorway that morning for work. Quite matter of fact like, he tells me that my Dad is dead and had suffered a Massive heart attack and crashed his car, pronounced dead at the scene.
So it takes him a good few goes to get it to sink in, and we sit speachless for what seemed like an age while he radios for more details.
So I phone my brother at work. And I have to tell him that Dad is dead. Worse still, over the phone. We still had to find and tell my Nan, who shook in my arms at the news.
Its not right.
Parents don't outlive their children. At least they shouldn't.
The funeral is Friday.
It will be hell, in as much as I am burying my Father, but also in that my family are crazed lunatics. Battles and feuds have already begun behind the scenes.
I will of course post over the weekend and let you all know who has tried to strangle who, who has been cut out of which will and how much of the buffet was actually eaten as opposedto being thrown.
pffft.......Families.
VIEW 18 of 18 COMMENTS
perdy:
Oh babes I don't know if I can do Saturday, Friday I can.
perdy:
Next Friday I'm in Ross after doing family stuff. Gaaaahhhh.