Something I would ponder about later was dad’s feelings towards cats.

His last phone call to me, made in the end of November, was about these little creatures. Niklas had two cats, Darwin and Newton, who moved in to my parents when he did. My father was so optimistic when he called, his enthusiasm about these cats was heartwarming. Even before their arrival he looked forward to having them in the house and it seemed to be working out very well. He spoke a lot about them during this final conversation we would ever have, and I clearly remember him saying how he had always loved cats.

The thing is, when I sorted through some papers and old books of mine a few months after his death, I found this book where a few childhood friends had filled in stuff about themselves. Things like favourite food, favourite music, that kind of stuff. I had asked my dad to fill in one of the pages as well. Two of the questions were about what you love and what you hate. There, with his peculiar handwriting – it really had more character than beauty – he had written “Cats”. On the section saying “Things I hate”. No mixup, since he next to “Cats” had written “War”.

Pity, how I never got to ask him how this made sense if he had always loved cats. πŸ™‚ I’m sure there was an interesting story behind it.

Pity, how many things we never got to, my father and I.