In all my nearly 40 years on this earth, I've never seen my dad so much as shed a tear. Crying is not his thing at all, much like me except even more strongly. So to see him sitting there, looking weak and skinny, crying his eyes out, was more of a shock - not to mention deeply distressing and heart-wrenching - than being told he has terminal lung cancer. I'm supposed to be the strong one for my mum, but she was the one comforting me as I stood - and then sat - there crying. What a fucking horrible time.