Please excuse me if I jump around here.
I don't even know where to begin.
On the 29th of July 2015 my dad lost his battle with cancer. Thankfully, he passed away peacefully in his sleep with my Mum and sister with him. It was Mum's birthday the next day. I was due to arrive two days later. I was too late.
I've never lost anyone close to me. Never felt the awful pain that I did, and still do. Never felt so disconnected with everything like I do. Never sat back and re-evaluated my life up to this point in time. Things I have felt, thought about, seen.
Just going through the motions of trying to appear normal. It's when I am alone, times like now, that it hits me all over again. He is gone. I will never hear his voice again. Never see his smile, never receive one of his massive warm hugs. Never sit with him in comfortable silence, with no need for any words.
My pain is for myself, my brother and sisters, but it is also for my Mum. The heartbreak of loosing the person you loved and lived with for nearly 50 years. I can't even imagine. It would be like loosing a part of yourself. My parents were in love since the day they met and never spent any long periods of time apart from one another.
Us four kids are not really into being the centre of attention. But we all spoke at Dad's funeral. My younger sister did the eulogy. I recited a poem I wrote (the day before). My older sister spoke about her time with dad and so did my brother. My brother in particular astonished me. He is a man of very few words, but he captivated everyone with his heartfelt speech.
I know people say that the pain gets less over the years. Maybe it will. But for now, it hurts like hell.
I miss you, Daddy.
