My father died last night.
He's been sick in Alzheimer for the past ten years, so we've had a lot of time to prepare. He caught the flue last week and we thought that was the end, but he got better - although much weaker - and hanged on until last night.
We're doing fine, my family and I. Like I said, we've had a lot of time to prepare, and to me my father has been dead for years already. He hasn't recognized me or my brothers for years, and there was pretty much only a shell left.
So we're arranging the funeral now, and that'll probably be the worst. We'll have our ups and downs, sad and happy moments, but life will go on.