Hey Dad

Your ashes were interned in the wall of remembrance today. Mum made me cry when she described the box that held your mortal remains, she said you would have approved. I sat down to email you one night, I needed advise, but that doesn’t work anymore. For the first time in my life I had to navigate on my own, my guide had taken a different path. I was utterly lost. In that moment I realised just how someone “adrift” at sea must feel, completely directionless. For the first time in my life when I was faced with an issue that seemed unsolvable I didn’t have you to bounce things off. I couldn’t run things by you and organise my own thoughts. That positive place I went to, that made me feel better about myself, was closed. It sucks Dad! It really hurts not having you to speak to. It hurts knowing I will never hear your voice again or see you smile or wrap my arms around the man who gave the best hugs. It really sucks, I don’t like the way missing you hurts and I am so tired of crying.

Last night as the final rays of daylight left World’s End and settled brightly over the heart of the world, you breathed your last and slipped into eternity. Four children felt a pillar of their lives crumple and a wife feels hollow. I wish I could wail and scream at the sky, purge these surging, consuming emotions that are beating against my heart with just one blood curdling soul wrenching scream and be done with it all. I want to be angry and sad and miserable, but I can’t be it doesn’t work like that, nothing is ever quite so simple. Through this haze of tears and with this heavy heart I feel only gratitude. I do not believe you deserved the suffering you endured, yet I am so grateful that to the end you were alert and dignified. I wish we all had more time, just one more phone call or SKYPE. But I am so grateful that the end came quickly.   I am grateful for the bond we share, one that neither distance nor death could sever. My children won’t get the chance to learn from y