Visiting my terminally ill father in hospital after he had a fall. I asked him what that huge bruise on his neck was, if it was from the fall.
“No, it’s the cancer.” Was the thing he said, and I’ll never forget it. Crazy. Turns out the tumour was cutting off blood flow to his brain and causing him to pass out. He died a month later. Almost a year to that day now.
Love you, Dad.
Dress is a not a kilt, no problem with kilts at all and I’ve worn one before.
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