You know, hindsight's 20/20.
Two years ago I held my father's hand as he died. I
thought I'd never recover; never be able to bear the pain.
The two years have gone by fast, and I've learnt a lot. Fond memories have
replaced the sadness and all the other feelings that go hand-in-hand with the
death of one's closest loved one. Mind you, there's still a hole in my heart but
it's healing faster than many said it would.
All of you (y'all know who you are) who've been so supportive (and tolerant)
over this time deserve, and hereby receive, my deepest thanks. The whole thing;
the time with him during illness, the end, and the funeral, have shown me that
I'm not the invincible, stainless-steel-hearted person I once was.
You'll never know just how helpful you all were. Now, to show you just how
well I'm doing, I'll excuse myself and go have a cheeseburger...