Once again I have made the long drive of several hours to the city. It was unplanned, it was unscheduled. My father died.
None of us expected this. He was getting up there in years, but he was in excellent health. He went peacefully in his sleep. My mother wasn't able to wake him in the morning, he was gone.
And so here I am, in the city, up in the middle of the night and unable to sleep. I feel stunned. We've been sorting through my father's things. The funeral will be on Monday.
We all just took it for granted that he'd be with us yet for years to come. I can't wrap my mind around it. And here I sit, in the middle of the night, unable to get to sleep, and feeling as if I've been hit over the head.