I haven’t written anything for months…
I really thought that lockdown would motivate me to blog, be creative, paint (yes, I actually attended art college, many moons ago), learn Mandarin, bake (no never, I just put that one in, to be one of the herd), work out (sorry Joe, your warm up was too much for me!). And then Dad suddenly died…
I didn’t want to write about it, but now I feel that I just about can. It’s still raw, its still the unknown, its still so devastating that I find myself suddenly sobbing at the strangest thing (my wooden garden bench needs painting and I would have called dad to ask what to buy). I miss his sardonic wit, his ability to see through people (and frequently refer to them as a pillock). I miss Face Timing him and just seeing the top of his head or the living room ceiling. I miss sharing a bottle of Merlot with him and mum (well, me and mum usually drank most of it), whilst dad nodded off, when he realised what we had done, he called us a couple of ‘buggers’ and then opened another bottle. I miss his advice, wether I wanted it or not. I miss his cleared headed approach to life, but most of all I just miss Dad being there…..being Dad x
Not Ready for Cardigans 