On July 7th 2002, in the early hours, our family dog Fred died, following a long illness. We’d been prepared for it for some time, but it was still a blow, as he was only eight years old.
By the early evening of the same day, astonishingly, my father was being rushed to hospital with a massive heart attack. In the early hours of July 8th, after several attempts to revive him, he too passed away. We’d had no warning of this, although the doctor said he had apparently been suffering from a serious, undiagnosed heart condition for a long time. He was 62.
Fred in 1998.
The events still seem to have an insanely surreal and improbable edge to them. Death is part of life, but two losses within 24 hours is something no one really expects. My mother and I are dealing with the realities of it all slowly. Life goes on.
[NOTE: I don’t remember the exact date I wrote this, so the date/time given here is arbitrary.]