(no subject)

...My dad died. I don't even. I'm disabling comments because I just can't deal now.

ETA: He was at the house in northern Iran. His cousin went over this morning because he wasn't answering his phone and found him. He had a heart attack. It was quick and... sort of unexpected, in that he hadn't been particularly ill lately or anything, but he had had two heart attacks before and he was - you know, I don't know exactly how old he was, or possibly I'm just blanking on it right at this moment but he was over 70, he wasn't young.

Normally when someone dies you have to all like - run around and do stuff. But all of that happens in Iran, his sisters and cousins are handling it. There's nothing for my mother and my sisters and I to do. We don't even have a funeral to go to. Which is just ...strange. Because no one wants to do all that stuff. No one wants to go to funerals. But it makes us here in England feel strangely lost and unfinished. We all gathered together at Tara's house and sat together for a while, and then Es and I both wanted to be on our own so she brought me home. And that's it, I guess, and none of that feels right. None of this feels like it ought to be.

I'll undisable the comments now. Please don't feel you have to leave one, because I know how awkward and I-don't-know-what-to-say that feels. I may not answer any just yet; please forgive me if that happens.

(no subject)

...My dad died. I don't even. I'm disabling comments because I just can't deal now.

ETA: He was at the house in northern Iran. His cousin went over this morning because he wasn't answering his phone and found him. He had a heart attack. It was quick and... sort of unexpected, in that he hadn't been particularly ill lately or anything, but he had had two heart attacks before and he was - you know, I don't know exactly how old he was, or possibly I'm just blanking on it right at this moment but he was over 70, he wasn't young.

Normally when someone dies you have to all like - run around and do stuff. But all of that happens in Iran, his sisters and cousins are handling it. There's nothing for my mother and my sisters and I to do. We don't even have a funeral to go to. Which is just ...strange. Because no one wants to do all that stuff. No one wants to go to funerals. But it makes us here in England feel strangely lost and unfinished. We all gathered together at Tara's house and sat together for a while, and then Es and I both wanted to be on our own so she brought me home. And that's it, I guess, and none of that feels right. None of this feels like it ought to be.

I'll undisable the comments now. Please don't feel you have to leave one, because I know how awkward and I-don't-know-what-to-say that feels. I may not answer any just yet; please forgive me if that happens.

In search of mythical kings

Going home is such a ride, going home is such a ride
Isn't going home a low and lonely ride?

This was our song, my dad's and mine, a thing we shared that was only ours. He gave it to me in my late teens and we never spoke of it again, but I kept it and I know he did too. This was us.

In search of mythical kings

Going home is such a ride, going home is such a ride
Isn't going home a low and lonely ride?

This was our song, my dad's and mine, a thing we shared that was only ours. He gave it to me in my late teens and we never spoke of it again, but I kept it and I know he did too. This was us.