My Father

It would have been my father's birthday today. I woke up just before midnight and felt an overwhelming sense of loss. With the passing of time significant dates have lessened in their ability to bring back painful memories and more often than not it is the days when something mundane generates a memory that can suddenly feel so upsetting. I miss him. I was only in my very early twenties when he died and it was so shocking to me - to stand by him, holding his hand, waiting for the next breath to come - as surely it would. I remember carefully leaning over him to feel for his breath on my cheek and feeling utterly traumatised when there was not the faintest whisper against my skin. I remember how everything around me spoke of his presence, but he himself was not there.

I wanted him to meet my children, his grandchildren. I wanted to look after him just as he looked after me and for him to see what I have become. I want one of his big bear hugs. I want to see him again.

These feelings today are unexpected and upsetting. I was surprised how angry I felt that he was gone after so long. It will pass and in many ways that's the beauty of this journal - I can let it go into the ether, filtering through each person who reads it until the feelings gently fade.



Happy Birthday Dad x