the day my dad died

was the worst day of my life.¬† I got a phone call, three days before Christmas, eleven fifteen in the morning, still in my pajamas, pottering round the kitchen, my brother telling me something that I just couldn’t comprehend, Dad just a few days ago sat laughing in the kitchen, making snowstorms with my boys, dead in his sleep aged 59 and three fucking quarters.

Incomprehensible then and now.

That’s what I’m thinking about, that’s what has moved me to the core whilst I’m collapsing into your website Phillip Toledano, whilst I’m reeling with the pain of too much tenderness that comes rushing back …

For your unforgettable gift to me and the world. THANK YOU.

(c) Phillip Toledano