I want to tell you all that I lost my father 2 years ago. He die at the age of 64, after fighting hard for 7 weeks.
He had Crohn's and Bechterew's dissease and was on dialyses.
I still struggle with the loss, the hurt, the lonelienes. Haven't stopped grieving.

3 weeks ago I got a phonecall from my sister to let me know that our grandmother (fathers mother) had died, peacefully in her sleep, with a book on her lap in bed at the nursinghom where she had been for the past 12 years.

When I was a bit younger, I would get mad at my dad for not calling me, I was always the ons who called him, he made an exeption one my birthday and when I was hospitalised after a nervous breakdown, ha called almost every day to check in on me.

People, if you are in a loving relationship with your parents, call them when you can, even if only to hear there voices.

I can't anymore but would give my life for one more hug, one more conversation