Thursday, October 02, 2008

I have some news: We have a house. It's pretty cool. It's about a 3 minute drive from my work - it would probably take about 20 minutes to walk though (down the road, around a corner and then down a loooong road). It's 3 bedrooms + a sunroom, a nice backyard and it's in a quiet street. We move in about 6 weeks time. I better start packing ...

... On to what I wanted to write about tonight.

Today, I went to mum and dads for the day. Dad wanted to do an oil change on my car, and mum had a heap of boxes for me so I can start packing.

My dad was ... quiet.

Last weekend, he lost one of his best mates to an aneurysm. Out of nowhere, and shocking to all.

He's been unwell lately - shocking headaches that no one can explain.

He was forced into retirement last year, and is in the middle of fighting for compensation because of the unfair IR Laws that brought about his retirement. The IR Laws have now been overturned, and WorkChoices is dead, but dad still has no job. Of course, his previous employer is dragging out things out.

I felt like crying when I saw him today. In fact, I am crying now, thinking of him. I don't know why. He seemed ... Lost, I guess. I was sad for him. I hurt for him. I wanted him to be normal, but he was so far from normal. I'm scared for him. The work thing is worrying him, and stressing him out. I feel like screaming at his old bosses. He worked for them for 19 years. Never called in sick unless he had to. He only took holidays when he had to - if he had built up too much leave and had to use some of it up. He'd work nights if there had been an accident and he was needed. 19 god damn years, and this is how they treat him? How is that fair? How is that right?

Bob's funeral is tomorrow. Mum and dad will go, as will many others from the town. He was the type of bloke who would do anything for anyone. He and dad had been mates for years. They used to drink together, and work together on weekends.

I don't know why I have this sadness tonight. I can't really explain it - but something about my dad, so quiet, so lost, so not-himself today, has really gotten to me. The tears don't want to stop, which is making typing hard. I think I'll go have a bath, and cry in there for a while.

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