It’s the people. It’s always the people. I was fine, really. That fine that comes from not thinking and just getting on with all the practical things that need doing. The type of fine that you’ll realise years later was not fine at all, just broken pieces of you glued together by denial and practicalities. Until. Until someone in the lift asks you how your Dad is doing, the kindness in their voice, and the words get stuck in your mouth as you try to decide what to say that is both true and non-committal to his future self when…