Well… He’s getting worse. Every day he’s slightly less alert, slightly less able to talk to you, slightly higher dose of pain killers.
It’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s not coming home.
Which means that he can’t move house. And I can’t sell it, but it needs to be around until my grandmother croaks. Which means I might be about to move house.
Yeah… my grandfather is dying and I’m getting stressed about the idea of moving house. It’s great the way your mind works, isn’t it…?
Tags: family
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