I didn’t cry when my father died…but I only ever met him about 5 times in my life so maybe that’s got something to do with it.
In fact it was quite funny when I was told. It went a bit like this:
I got a phone call from my much old brother who basically said “Sorry to ruin your holiday but Dad’s died”.
“Oh shit, how is mum taking it?”
“…Why?”
“Because dad’s dieeee…wait. Do you mean our father. Or our stepdad?”
“Father.”
“Oh, ha. Nevermind then. Phew. Right I’m going skiing. See you when I get back.”
(On a not so funny note our father was a wife and child beating serial cheater. So, ha, still glad he’s dead.)
Now when my mum died I was ugly crying and wailing like a starving baby. And I still cry about it a few times a year every year for the last 10 years since she left us…but in private.
I didn’t cry when my father died…but I only ever met him about 5 times in my life so maybe that’s got something to do with it.
In fact it was quite funny when I was told. It went a bit like this:
I got a phone call from my much old brother who basically said “Sorry to ruin your holiday but Dad’s died”.
“Oh shit, how is mum taking it?”
“…Why?”
“Because dad’s dieeee…wait. Do you mean our father. Or our stepdad?”
“Father.”
“Oh, ha. Nevermind then. Phew. Right I’m going skiing. See you when I get back.”
(On a not so funny note our father was a wife and child beating serial cheater. So, ha, still glad he’s dead.)
Now when my mum died I was ugly crying and wailing like a starving baby. And I still cry about it a few times a year every year for the last 10 years since she left us…but in private.