I had a blog all lined up, and then Boston happened, and I put it on the side-burner as less important and trivial at the time.
But now my father is missing.
He left yesterday afternoon at 2:30pm to go and pay a bill at a medical centre about 20 minutes from home. He took off before my mum could get in the car with him. He is 85 years old and starting to get a bit vague.
It is now 8am the next day and nothing has been heard of him.
The police have been notified, and we have done the rounds of hospitals, and places he might be.
Now it is raining for the first time in ages, and all I can think about is my Dad out there somewhere in the cold. He doesn't even have a warm jacket on. I hate not knowing where he is or what has happened to him.
I feel so useless.