At the beginning of the year I was up in Queensland, a Christmas spent as an extended bedside vigil as my Dear Old Dad clung to life, his beady eye occasionally fixed on we, the gathered family, as if to say, "I'm not going anywhere just yet."
This morning that anywhere was where he went, as we finally lost our dearest of men to the fight and fate of all of us. I'd had my ticket booked, due to spend a week with him come Wednesday.
You feel robbed sometimes. Today was one of them.
I spoke to Pa last week, he was getting very confused, which is hard as he had a mind like a steel trap, but I knew when I was speaking that he was listening, that he knew we cared and loved him.
Experience has taught me that the last thing to go is that comprehending mind. Confusion may reign when trying to gather thoughts, and communicating, but if all you need to say is said, they will understand.
If I go with a shred of the good humour, grace and dignity as my old man, I will be blessed.
This past weekend was spent with my friends Rod, Hazel and young Benjamin down south. My favourite coast, temporarily waveless, but a delight to stand on the brink of vast horizons. A few snaps on a cliff edge, one now entirely appropriate. Benji on infinity's brink, a metaphor for my Dad on the his last full day.
Benji with a life ahead.
Dad with his life trials behind, ahead a grand adventure, or a long, good, night.
I loved and love you always, you wonderful man.