MY SINCERE THANKS to all the visitors to Bowalley Road who, upon learning of my father's death, so kindly and so graciously conveyed their condolences. Your words have been a great support at this sad time.
As a strong supporter of this site, however, Dad would, I am sure, have wished me to lose as little time as possible in re-starting our political conversation.
That is what I now propose to do.
In the language of the Romans - with whom we seem to have more and more in common these days: Vita continuat.
Life goes on.
Chris Trotter.
18 March 2016
This posting is exclusive to Bowalley Road.
2 comments:
In your own time Chris – we'll survive :).
I find those sentiments hard to express. When my father died the nurses left us in a room together. My first thought was a picture of our grimy old garage at our first house (Dad + car). My second was Dad's body is here but the personality is over there. I heard his sound (like his drill and angle grinder or wasp in a paper bag). my mind formulated these exact words: "what was that for?". My father suffered from narcissistic personallity disorder, he was like a crooked glass and I spent my whole life (until then) fighting with him.
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