When I got home last night, I was in the door all of 5 minutes when my mum got a phone call.

Her brother, John, had collapsed in his home. Her other brother, Michael, who lives with him, panicked, and phoned my mum before phoning for an ambulance. He just found him lying there and didn’t know what to do. Mum wasn’t overly concerned. John rarely ate, so it was likely that he’d just fainted.

To be sure, my mum darted off ( via public transport, because her husband who drives, is a bit of a cunt ) to my uncles house, promising to keep us updated with any news.

Less than an hour later, phonecall from mum. Paramedics pronounced him dead on arrival and didn’t attempt resuscitation. They had to wait for the police to arrive, I’m assuming for them just to make sure every thing was natural causes.

Seems he’d been complaining of a chest pain for the better part of a week. He wasn’t the type to go to the doctors. He was only about 50 year old, if that.

We weren’t close. In all my life, I’ve maybe spoken to him 30 times. But still, he was family.