Beneath Biscay

By Douglian

Julio

Late in the afternoon I had received a phone call asking me to go home quickly as my father-in-law Julio had suddenly been taken ill.

As of yesterday we had moved into my in-laws' flat while our bathroom was being taken apart. Meanwhile they were staying at their chalet outside town by the sea as they normally do during July and August.

My wife, who had gone out there straight away to be with them, phoned me later in the evening to tell me that her father had died. He had been losing weight and strength for some time but nevetheless the end came unexpectedly. He had been pottering around in the garden in the morning. Perhaps that is the best way though.

So I had to break the news to my daughter and then we waited for my my mother-in-law's arrival with my wife and sister-in-law. I took this photo from the flat while we were awaiting their arrival. A view that Julio would have looked out on every day for decades, but would no more.

Later in the evening friends and relatives started arriving to give their condolences. In Spain funerals are supposed to take place within 72 hours, so after much fiddling with screwdrivers and hunting for keys we had, in the end, to get a locksmith out to open a cupboard to look for funeral insurance papers.

A sad day. R.I.P. Julio.

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