My dad finally passed away this morning at 11:42 am.

I mourn not for the man that laid in the bed at the care home, but for the man that I knew as a child before illness took him away.

For this reason I can also accept his death. He was no longer my father, just a body riddled with disease, clinging onto the soul that longed for freedom.

Both my mother and I knew that it was his time, and we have fully accepted this.

Of course seeing him today was still hard, brought a lot of tears...

But it probably brought me closer than ever to the person that for the first time I can call my Sister, without feeling the need to add a "Half" to the name.

And it's just... a sigh of relief to know that he's no longer in pain, but in a better place.

I love you, dad.

I'll see you someday, and we'll ride a Harley together over the Grand Canyon, haha.