It’s been one year since I arrived in Prague, haggard from a volcano-interrupted journey.  Said journey ended up being me, a briefcase, and my urine-soaked cat in a crate after 25 hours of confinement.

I’ve written in previous posts about what I love and (un)love about Prague.  So no need to sum it up again.

That said, my arrival in Prague is inextricably linked to the death of my father on the third day I was here; which was also my first day of work.  The first call I made from Prague back home was to my sister to inquire about my dad’s (seemingly non-life threatening) condition in the hospital.  My sister replied, “Donny, Dad died 10 minutes ago”.

I wrote this eulogy of a sort last year.  My arrival and his departure will be forever linked….