At 81 my dad just died of pancreatic cancer. The end came swiftly, and thankfully without pain. It seemed like just a month ago we were out at the Puritan restaurant in Manchester sipping wine, and going for a 45 minute walk, before sitting down to a game of bingo at the nursing home. The enclosed pictures include: my dad three weeks ago, the extended family at the funeral, my then 23 year-old dad holding me as a new-born, and the final resting place.
