Today was Father's Day. I feel like I shouldn't be this sad, because lots of other people are sad too, so why should I be special? But I AM sad. I miss my Dad. He was a sweetie. I still can't believe he's gone – dead, unreachable. It makes me feel sick thinking about it, so I don't. Think about it. Much. If I can help it. Because it causes a massive pain somewhere in the middle of me. But Father's Day is rammed down one's throat every which way; email, marketing, adverts…it's hard to ignore.
The FH had beautiful cards from the girls and from the G'daughter. They're lovely, with sweet messages - and they made me cry. On my own.
So. Dad. Love you – miss you.
I'll NEVER forget you. My memories of you are all good. Rudyard Kipling; the Jungle book - Winnie the Pooh, bike riding, your rescuing me from sleep walking down the road, drawing, projects, fried bread, killing spiders in New Guinea, discussions about work, discussions about life….
a lot of little things…which were all so important to me at the the time – and will always be important to me now. They always were. I never told you how important you were to me.
I wish I had told you.
Hey Jo....just passing through and caught this post....I know exactly what you mean when you say it makes you sick thinking about it, so you don't. As soon as my mind drifts to dad, I'm haunted by HOW he passed and have to imagine a dirty big "STOP" sign to avoid going back to any of the pain....be that its (again) Fathers day here, am doing lots of stuff to keep myself busy. Anyhow, know that my thoughts are with you today....blessings mate!
ReplyDelete