Remembering my Dad.

It would be my dad's birthday today. He would have been 85. He died in 1984.
It's hard to imagine how he would have been at eightyfive. My mum would be the same age too. She died when she was 48.
Both sadly missed.
But life goes on. At least, they have been spared the (maybe,) indignity of losing their minds, demented, CVA, and untold other illnesses.
Maybe they wouldn't have had those things. That is one thing I will never know. But it gives me a little comfort.