Coursework.Info - Inspiration in an Instant

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My real father died when I was a baby. Only photographs and faint memories help me recall who he was. I suppose I accepted Roy as my father, I suppose I was too young not to accept him but now as I look at his old waxy skin as he lies in his open coffin, I realise that I don't miss him. I haven't talked to my mother in years so Its been years since I needed him. He passed away two days ago from heart failure. My mother is a different story, she was stranded without him, Roy married my mother a year after my father died, Roy was my step-father. The day after the funeral was Monday, I am informed by my financial advisor that my stocks have doubled over the weekend, ordinarily this is good news on a Monday morning but the thought of my mother on her...

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