Picking up the pieces

So much for easing into the month of April with a few practical jokes.

After years of driving safely I had my first road accident yesterday.

Driving on an A-Class road in one of England’s less populous counties, even at a safe following distance, you don’t expect the articulated lorry in front of you to suddenly slow from approximately 40mph to a very sudden halt in order to let vehicles out from a side road.

I’m fine, although a little sore in places, but I’m no ambulance chaser and won’t be perusing anything beyond an insurance claim for the damage. My car however is rather poorly and is currently at accident repair centre awaiting some TLC.

I arrive into work late with the accompanying piss-taking, shrug, laugh and carry on. Spectacularly annoying it may have been, that’s quite literally one of life’s little knocks. It had to happen on April 1st didn't it?

I get home from work sometime just gone one o’clock this morning.

There are two texts on my mobile.

One was from the girlfriend checking up on me, following the shunt.

The second was from my mother and quite simply said:

CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN

I stared at the message for as the quiet realisation of the past few weeks sunk in. I glanced again at my watch and realised that the inevitable conversation could wait until the morning.

Ten hours later, with a clearer mind I called my mother and she confirmed that my uncle Kenneth passed away last night, following a frighteningly swift decline at the mercy of an aggressive tumour.

I have not the words for fitting tribute at this moment; but I loved him, and he deserved to know earlier than he did.