However your foul-mouthed response to another person's point of view is uncalled for. You'll probably say "F You" to me also, but if that's the case let me say I think you need some help getting over your self-pity and bitterness about the cards life dealt you. We all lose our parents at one point or another. I lost my mom to ALS. We knew the end was coming, and it was a long, slow, agonizing time. A cerebral aneurism, in comparison, could almost seem like a gift. Or at least a preferable way to go.
Fuck fatalism, fuck acceptance of the inevitable. I'm an agnostic, I don't think there's anything else beyond this life, and having it ripped away that suddenly and unexpectedly is a raw deal, not a gift. I don't know if it'd be preferable to a long, agonizing death; I haven't experienced one of those in my family. Maybe you do end up being fatalistic if you have to live through one of those. I dunno.
It's been almost thirty years. I'm largely over it.
Fuck you. Fuck your sanctimonious fatalism.
Okay, maybe a few more than two words.
The day I turned twelve, we found my father dead on the kitchen floor. He'd had a cerebral aneurism in the night, before going to bed. No warning signs, he was in fine shape. I sank into a deep, deep depression for about twenty years; I feel like I lost a vast chunk of time to that. I did very little beyond going through the motions of life and not quite being gloomy enough to kill myself.
It may be different if you know the end is coming. I don't know.
But I would much rather have had a father as I tried to make sense of who I'd be during my teen and early adult years than this so-called "gift".
Fuck you, and fuck Buddha's rice.