I just heard the news at 7.48pm, about an hour and six minutes ago.
I'm miles away from him, but I went through an emotional trauma last night and this morning and then I woke up this morning feeling a wave of peace, and I said a prayer for him. He had been very ilI over the last seven months. My sister and I talked about him yesterday. About how she had last seen him in the hospital two days ago. About how he was suffering, and his condition was critical. He wasn't stable enough to be transported to another hospital, or to leave the country for better medical treatment.
I expected the worst, but still held on to a sliver of hope.
For a while now, every time my mum called my phone, I was expecting this news - but it never came and I marveled at how good God had always been to him. He is a warrior, he's been through worse and survived. But this spell was taking too long.
I was running late to work and it made sense to throw on a simple back dress. And for no complicated reason, I'm wearing a black dress today.
I didn't know it would be today. I have cried my eyes eyes out in the last hour, feeling a huge sense of loss and helplessness. And shock. And sadness. And some kind of relief for my mother, who has been through the worst from the day she married him, and was with always with him, even in his last moments.
May his lively, cheerful, funny soul rest in peace.