My Father’s Death
My father is dead. He suffered and then died in pain. Less than fair to say the least. Here was a man who helped other people on a daily basis – asking for nothing in return. A real philanthropist.
He died minutes after my last post. With his family. A good thing. Because he had cancer, we got to say thank you. For being a father, a friend, a brother, a lover. We got to say goodbye . . .
And now he is gone. In such a short space of time. It’s an absolute and utter tragedy.
If God existed, this would make him a cruel and indiscriminate tyrant. God’s world? A miserable one filled with fear, war and pain. I refuse to believe in such sociopathy. This world is too beautiful for such a spiteful being. And so, in this one sentence, “Poof!” – he doesn’t exist.
That is my will.
