At 3:10pm, yesterday, after three days into a drug induced coma, my Dad Albert slipped away.
The hospice staff were very nice.
They worked as hard as anyone could to make the final 2 weeks of his life more comfortable.
They restored his dignity - and our faith in a little bit of the NHS.
When he went, we were all there - with our hankies and our regrets.
When he went, it was a release - the horrible gurgling of diseased lungs stopped, the man was at peace.
We were in pieces.
Meanwhile, over at some swish British American tobacco office, concerned marketing executives reacted with horror. Turnover would take a knock, profits would suffer, new growth areas would urgently have to be sought out.
Meanwhile, over at 11 Downing Street, Prudence rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Tobacco tax revenue would take a bit of a dip this year ........... well, until another no brainer buys his first pack and decides how manly he looks with a cocktail of lethal chemicals sticking out of the corner of his mouth.