Tuesday, December 20

Eighty Six Charlie, he came back. Said he'd been thinking it over. Says he's had a change of heart . He thinks he's made a grave mistake.

And just when I'm about to get all wrapped up in my own self-pity, wondering why things in my life are so complicated and tough, so barren and bare....something happens to slap me in the face and wake me up to all the other people's crap in the world.
And once again, I'm feeling lucky. In a way.

Earlier today, my ex-wife lost her step-dad. He was as close to a real dad to her and her sister as one could possibly get. She is from a very close family, so she's taking it hard, and she's so wrapped up in her mum's grief that she's probably not really had it properly sink in herself yet.
That's been terrible enough, but my kids have also lost their grandad. And it's been just awful....heartbreaking to see them trying to cope with the news.

Although we never really saw eye to eye, we got on with each other well enough to have shared the occasional evening together; several pints, a pool table and the two of us. He knows my biggest gripe with him was his drinking. Which, in time, developed into full blown alcoholism. We all thought the prognosis from his doctor would have been enough to scare the shit out of him, to show him a better way forward, to help him once and for all to see that he was slowly killing his body. It wasn't. When he was told he wouldn't survive a liver transplant operation, he knew....we all knew it was too late.
It was arranged that he spent the last of his days, weeks or months, however long, at home, with his family around him. And that's exactly how he spent his last breaths; with all of his loved ones by his bedside during his last few hours.
It's the way he wanted to die.
It's surely the way anybody would want to die.


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