I remember exactly what I was doing at this time 5yrs ago. I was sitting outside a care home asking my big sister if they had got it right. Was my Dad going to die? 9.10am and we had been there most of the night. When we arrived a nurse had brought in coffee & biscuits. I remember thinking how totally fucking ridiculous is that. My Dad was lying in the bed dying beside us & we’re supposed to sip fucking coffee & munch biscuits. I sat holding his hand for hours that night and I don’t remember every doing that. I still wonder if he was aware of us being there. I almost missed him going. I arrived back in the room to put my hand on his face and feel his pulse stop.
I still can’t quite believe my big Dad died. The man who’d brought me up was suddenly not going to be around anymore. I couldn’t quite believe that I’d never hear his voice again. I didn’t put rose tinted glasses on when he died. I’d been born with them on and I’ll die wearing them. I still miss him, still wish he was here. I still think about him every single day. Five years of life without him. I still wonder how I manage to function without him and yet I do every day. I wish it got easier but it doesn’t. The finality of death means we have little choice but to suck it it but I will always ache for a Dad hug. Losing an irreplaceable piece of myself made me realise for the second time in my life that I only have me. My Dad was a huge part of my world & that hasn’t changed just because he’s left it. He’s in every smile, laugh or tear I have. He’s in my children & always in my heart.