"it's not over 'til the fat lady sings."

my grandad died last night. he was ill in hospital and in a lot of pain. i guess he's lived a long life, especially for a smoker and a alcoholic. that's what eveyone says, "at least he lived a good life." yeahh, spending his demented wife's money on whisky, expensive cigars and plazma tvs. i shouldn't be so bitter, he grew up in an era where it was taken for granted that the men worked while the women stayed at home and took orders. i don't resent him, i honestly don't, i just resent the social order. and i know when i travel down to uplyme for the funeral and see his armchair, the throne he dictated from, empty, i will break down and cry. because the news hasn't sunk in yet, i still expect him to be asking me if my boyfriend's still that matt boy (god, that was ages ago), teasing me about my 'conquests.' i'm going to miss him. grandad, sure you were stubborn, annyoing and unable to listen to anyone else's opinions, but you had one hell of a spirit. so rest in peace, grandad. you deserve it.