In memoriam H.S.M.

My father was rushed to hospital last Monday where he was placed in intensive care. Despite all the efforts of an excellent medical team, the infection eventually got the better of him and he died on Saturday. Thankfully he was in no pain as he had been heavily sedated from Wednesday, but the shock of losing my father - so quickly and at the relatively young age of 63 - still seems utterly unreal.

True, we didn't always get on particularly well (in fact I suspect we'd've had little to do with each other if it weren't for our love for my mother), but it doesn't stop me from missing him keenly. It was he who encouraged me to broaden my musical tastes - while still remaining resolutely in the classical genre, admittedly - and although we felt differently on many subjects (not least that of my sexuality), I feel there was a sense of mutual respect between us for sticking to our guns. The last two occasions I saw him, at Christmas and when my parents visited me this spring, there were signs of a definite upturn in our relationship; I only wish we could have had the opportunity to mend the rift further.

His funeral is to be held next Wednesday. I shall be away for the most of the week, so bear with me if all goes quiet on the blog front for what's left of this month.