Fond Farewell

I've never been very good at goodbyes and today's farewell was harder than most.
If you read D's blip, you'll know that, on top of everything else, his dad managed to fall in the night and crack his head on something. There was a lot of blood and D's dad was very shaken (as were the rest of us). A farcical situation followed whereby D's mum, mistaking the stain in the bathroom for diarrhoea and thinking Ken was bleeding from down there (sorry if you're eating) rang Nurse Helen who ran round with bum pads (this was at 4am) then re-diagnosed the patient as having a cut head, went back for steri-strips, I put on Margaret's fluffy pink dressing gown and, looking like the 5th Tellytubby, started making cups of tea with D while Margaret offered morphine to everyone while Ken sat on the bed bleeding profusely and we agreed it was a bit like Christmas gone wrong.
D, Ken and Alf watched the Grand Prix together this afternoon and Helen and I went out for a coffee.
We couldn't put off our departure any longer so we all hugged Ken and cried, Margaret cried, then we went to Helen's to say goodbye and all cried and hugged again and then we came home and picked at some Chinese food and oh shit I'm crying again.
Over and out.