lize and I went out to my sister's place last Sunday. Tess, her husband Scott, my nephew Declan and my Dad all have birthdays within a week of each other, so a combined party much like those Korean mass weddings you see on the telly is in order. It was a really nice day. Kids tearing about hopped up on fanta and fairy cakes, oldies drinking cuppas and chatting. Dad followed me as I walked out for a smoke, made his usual comments about me needing to give them away and then dropped it on me. He's got emphysema. Same as his Dad and and his grandfather. He hasn't smoked for twenty years. He'd been sick a lot this year which was odd for him. Normally he's felling trees and wrestling livestock and generally being the mad old country boy he is. He said the prognosis is open - there's no timeframe yet. I couldn't talk for a bit. I put my hand on his shoulder and asked him was he ok. He said yes. Said Mum's dealing with it ok. I went back inside and we left after a bit.
I'm still numb. The inevitable stuff is staring the poor bloke in the face. He sat and watched his Dad go the same way. He has a pretty fair idea what what his last months, weeks, days, hours and minutes are going to be like.
He smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder on Sunday when we were about to get in the car. He's more of a man than I'll ever be.