Dad. I didn't forget you for a moment

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.