My Opa died last night at around eight. Mum was there and I'm so glad she was. We might drive up for the funeral on Wednesday.
I don't know whether I should be glad he didn't have to live longer in inability and frustration or sad that he's gone. Both, I guess. He's seen God and will never be in pain again, but it feels like it's always too soon to go.
I miss you, Opa.