Death

My dad's father (aka my Pop) died on the weekend that just past. Strangly enough I wasn't that upset about it. Sure, the funeral was today and the thought of other people being upset and crying made me feel a bit teary but I wasn't upset that the old guy died. He had been sick for years, in and out of hospital for eight years so much that the staff knew him that well.. the hospital staff knew him better than I or my brother did.
When they read out the stuff about his life, I realised I really didn't know my Pop, I asked my brother later if he felt like any that was said about his children and grandchildren came even close to home for him, he said no too.
My brother and I are probably considered the snobs of the family... we didn't cry, we turned up, we sat in the back and we said hello to our Nanna and left.
I felt sympathy for all nine brothers and sisters, it was their father and it is sad.

My mother paid for the funeral, which I am shocked over, between nine brothers and sisters none of them can fork over $1,000 each? shocking, what a bunch of drop kicks my dad's side is.

no comments needed for this post i just felt like venting.