My Dad was a strong man. Supportive and practical. Willing to help out when needed. I looked on him as a rock. Solid. Always there. Solid underfoot. And now he is gone. I grew up with this strong man and now I am grown. I do not have his presence to rely on. Yet knowing
You can shed tears that he is gone Or you can smile because he has lived You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him Or you can be
On Wednesday we cremated my Dad. It was a lovely send off. Standing room only at the crematorium showed how many thought so highly of Dad. A beautiful service by the celebrant Jo. Standard bearers and pall bearers, all volunteers – friends and former work mates. Family supporting each other. A full hall for the
Today I visited my Dad in the funeral parlour. This is the last time I will see him. I feel like we’ve just been waiting. It hadn’t sunk in… until today All the planning for the funeral and wake is complete. We are now waiting again. Waiting for the day when we finally say Goodbye.
On Wednesday last week my father died. I held his hand as he struggled to breathe. I told him that we were with him. It is all I knew to say. Rest easy Dad, I’m with you. You are not alone. You made your choice to stop the pain and the indignity that you felt.