Nine years ago on this day my Father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. He was in his usual morning routine walking through the garden with Barbara and having a cup of tea. He had to deal with our dog chasing some passers by on bicycles, and he wasn't feeling right. So, he went back to bed and just like that he died on his bedroom floor. He had a massive heart attack, and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. He didn't spill his tea, he set it down before he fell. I wish I could say it gets easier to accept, but each year on this day it brings me the same deep sadness and longing that words cannot express. I can still smell his breath, feel his stubbly cheek and remember what it feels to be in his arms. I don't know what else to say... Except I miss you Dad, and I love you.