Isn't it crazy? Outside, the birds are still singing cheerfully. The woods still produces that fresh smell of burstling life. The morning sun never fails to fondly cradle the yellow water lilies in the canal. Squirrels hopping joyfully at the sight of a bunch of crushed walnuts they found.
While inside, my father-in-law is losing his battle against cancer. Frail and withered. Hanging to that last thread in his dying bed. The three dosage of morphine shots per day has mercilessly swept his conscious self away, in return for a relieve from pain. It's a matter of days, they said. Or hours.
Een goede reis toegewenst, schoonvader. Ik zal je vreselijk missen.