andrewducker | Emotional Upset

So, my Dad asked me last night to give him a call today to do a bit of research for him.

I called him about half an hour ago and he asked me to dig up some information on an LCD projector and find somewhere near him (in Devon) so he could talk to them about it.

I checked about and called him back 5 minutes ago. Told him that there wasn't anyone terribly useful nearby. He told me that he'd tried to get hold of a number I'd given him in the original phone call, but they weren't answering, probably because it's Sunday.

Then he told me that his mother had died, peacedfully in her sleep, 10 minutes ago.

She was 94, born in 1910. Austrian Jewish, she'd been lucky enough to be a reporter in Paris when Hitler invaded. She married a Czech airman who was heading to Britain to join the RAF, had two children by him (including my father), divorced him, married again, had another child, raised them, watched her grandchildren grow up and said every Christmas that this one would be her last and that she she felt like a drain on her family, to a chorus of disagreement from her loving children, grandchildren and assorted in-laws.

This Christmas will be the first one I won't see her at.

I don't really feel anything yet. We were never terribly close, but she's been in my life for 32 years.

I'm glad she went peacefully. I'm glad her eldest son was there.

I can't think of anything else to say.