Dad - some thoughts written over the first month without you
In amongst the cruelty of it all, I find myself unable to write. So many thoughts and feelings and no way to write them down. I can’t speak them and when I try to write they disappear, leaving only trite sentences that mean nothing.
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I have lost my Father, the man who held me, made me feel safe, who was always proud of me, even when I sat in the midst of chaos. I am set adrift on an ocean of tears. Life will never be the same again. My heart is broken and I am lost for words.
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What did I learn from you? Relax your muscles when it’s cold. Crying won’t get it written. Generosity. You never forget your first love. Consequences. There is always a joke. Grief is for us.
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I saw you cry so many times. Unafraid, unashamed. I remember you weeping at the dinner table, as you talked about identifying the bodies of your colleague and one of the lads who had been killed while out cycling. You taught us so well about grief, but you didn’t teach us how to live without you.
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I remember doing the dishes with you, you washing, me drying, and we sang together. Go Down Moses, if you were in a mischievous mood, and I Know Him So Well - with you taking Barbara Dickson’s part to my Elaine Paige.
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You loved music, always listening to the radio or popping a record on. James Taylor, Vin Garbutt, John Denver. The care with which you put the needle down on to the vinyl, left hand in the air, ready for the dancing. Folk music on the radio in the evening. You made a mix tape of Irish songs for us to listen to in the car on our way to Ireland, and printed out all the words so we could sing along.
