I am sitting at home in Japan while this drama is unfolding some 10000kms away in Sydney.
My father rang me 5 months ago to tell me he was sick, he had stomach cancer and that he was going to have major surgery, but I didn't have to worry to much he would be ok for some time (if the surgery didn't get him). Well he pulled through the surgery, and at Christmas I returned home and saw him. He assured me that I shouldn't stay in Australia, that he would be ok, and that if anything untoward should happen I would have enough warning to make it home to see him.
One of my other brothers (living in London) was also given the same story. Well nobody expected this. I arrived home from work and was playing on the internet, when my mother rang, I could tell by her voice she was bearing bad news, I was expecting an elderly aunt or somebody else. I am still shaking several hours later, she told me that my father has suffered from a ruptured brain aneurysm and is not expected to make it til morning.
Of my 3 brothers and I only one of them is with my father in his last moments. It's not fair, he was fighting an extremely serious cancer, and he was going to beat it, that was his belief and I believed him.
My last image of my father is him waving good bye to me as I drove out his driveway with a weak but cheery smile.
My father passed away at 2am March 9, 2003. He was 62.
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