The Big Yin'll be sadly missed.

Not Billy Connoly...
Billy Fletcher.

My grandfather passed away at about half past nine on Monday morning.
I've been kinda numb since - "Pal", as I knew him was just that. A pal. A good friend. A gruff, stubborn old bugger who liked nothing better than a comfy chair, a pint, and a wee hauf as he watched the racing.
Sort of like a Glaswegian version of Jim Royle, with a ton more class.

I loved him to bits, and I don't think it's quite sunk in yet that he's gone. It was very sudden - It was only a few weeks ago that we found out he'd been diagnosed with cancer.
He was in hospital for a week or two, then home... Apparently he went peacefully in his sleep.

I suppose the silver lining here is that it was quite quick, and not drawn out over a long period of pain.
Doesn't change the fact that of all the people on this earth, he deserved to go early less than most.

He'd go to any lengths to help you out, and he was just a wonderful human being.

He wasn't a chuchy type by any means, and he never preached. But he believed in "Big G" in his own private way, so I'd like to think that as far as he's concerned now, Big G's got his pint and his paper ready and he's settling down now to yell at horses on Heaven's massive telly.
He'll also live on in all of us that knew him - There's a comfy chair in each of our hearts, with the cushion already moulded to the shape of his old arse.
I don't think he'll be out of it for long.