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Too Soon.

It such an obvious, shitty aspect of losing someone, but a week ago, I was talking to my dad, trying to convince him to eat and drink to build his strength, and now he's gone.

My mum sent me a text at the exact moment he died last Sunday as I got the train back from visiting a friend in Northampton today. It was such a strange thing to comprehend as the week has flown, while also dragging emotionally. Yesterday, I logged into his doorbell camera from home and flashed the lights to make sure they were still working and it hit me again that the house is now empty; this is a strange thing to consider when it's been so busy recently.

My dad's parents moved there not long after he was born in 1946. His mum died in the late 1980s when I was small, his dad in the late 1990s, & now he's gone too. The house always had movement until last week. And it's the last geographical link to my childhood that's still in the family.

Also today, my mum and I went over for the first time in a week to reorganise some of the hospital-related stuff there. While it was okay for the most part, seeing a pencil drawing and oil painting he did of me when I was a child was difficult. The point is, it's all still pretty raw.
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