Personal: a tribute to my dad

Following last year’s heartfelt blog post, I wasn’t going to bring my personal life into the shadows again but after my visit to the crematorium this afternoon, the placing of flowers, lighting of a sentimental candle, and the pattern of both sincere, humorous and emotional memories racing by, I thought I owed my Dad a reminder of his influence on me as a human being. He may not be on earth, it’s impossible for me to express my words face to face, but I believe he’s always around me, by my side and his spirit is kept alive by the forever gracing commemoration we share within the family. It’s those little signs that bring me comfort and I hope he realises just how much we still and always will care, and how his importance will never leave.

Today marks 6 years since I lost the most important man in my life. 6 years on and there’s still a huge hole missing from my life. My Dad passed away at midday on the 26th March 2009, with only my mum beside him. My mum arrived at the hospital, and ten minutes later he had slipped away with his hand in hers. To this day, I believe he waited for her. They met when they were teens and loved the bones of each other. Life’s unfortunate circumstances got in the way but that tenderness and attachment never left. She still has the letters he used to write to her, the ‘I’m sorry’ cards he sent when they’d argued, and we have dozens of photos and videos on hand to allow us to embrace the person he shaped us into and to never overlook those treasured times.

Dad, I miss you more than words can say

I miss your dodgy haircuts, some of those bowl cuts you had as a kid were terrible.

I miss your annoying sense of humour, I kind of got used to you eating the left over, out of date crisps loudly in my ears and running off like a giggling child.

I miss your smelly feet, seriously sometimes the stench was unbearable.

I miss your love for Oasis, half of the time I thought Noel and Liam were part of the family. 

I miss your awful jokes, and sometimes even inappropriate insults.

I miss those tellings off you used to get from mum, she definitely wore the trousers. 

I miss your lack of technology knowledge, with how advanced it is now I often wonder how far you’d get until you’d needed my input.

I miss your all round weirdness, I think I inherited part of it. 

I miss your funny walk, the head back, shoulders forward kind of strut. 

I miss your perspective, your way of thinking and acting was always so laid back.

I miss your voice, I’d do anything to hear it in front of me again. 

I miss your energy, you were just a big ball of fun.

I miss your dressing up, you putting on a man-thong at Christmas time still makes me laugh. 

I miss your guidance, you taught me some of life’s most valued lessons.

I miss our activity filled quality time together, those bike rides, sledging in the snow and having breakfast out every Saturday morning.

I miss your homemade meals, you were a brilliant cook. 

I miss your dedication to your hometown, I don’t think there was ever a time you didn’t boast about the typical Yorkshire man you were.

I miss those piles of hard back shiny paper you used to struggle to bring home from work just so we had enough to keep our colouring in on board.

I miss those daddy-daughter moments that no one else but you will ever get. 

I miss your patience, I know I must have caused you some stress growing up yet you always filled my aura with happiness. 

I miss your courage, you admitted your failures, you pleaded with your problems, and you were the strongest, bravest man right until your last breath.

I miss your hard work, you tried and tried till you could try no more and for that, I appreciate.

I miss your security and your care, you provided everything we ever needed, from your love, to those beloved Barbie dolls I begged you for. 

I miss your passion, you held me in your arms and wept when I was born and that devotion carried on during the days we spent together.

I miss not looking further into your side of life, it’s not until I’ve grown older that I understand how tough it was for you.

I miss your input, you did the best for us and I know that.

I miss your excitement, you absolutely loved being around us and making and capturing memories.

I miss those hugs, the crippling kind with your massive shoulders.

I miss your wisdom and integrity, that legacy will always live on. 

I miss the fact you’ll never be able to walk me down the aisle, that realisation hurts the most.

I miss your presence completely, you’ll always be my king

As anniversaries come back around, the ache in my heart returns. I can feel the emptiness in the air and sometimes it’s hard to find the suitable words to speak and to bring comfort. It’s grasping that awareness of what we once knew, being hit in the face with the realisation that we won’t see you again until it’s our turn to fly and that’s when you discover that even the most trivial things were the ones that mattered. I want you back where you belong, I wish I could turn back time but then I have to think of what you needed. You needed peace, relief and freedom and maybe, hopefully, you are in a better place. Heaven stole your body but your soul will forever be preserved. Those flickers of light, gentle, cold breezes and formed hearts I receive from time to time are little reminders you’re still here so please don’t ever stop sending the signals down.

Dad, you fragranced my life with emotion, joy and even annoyance but your time on earth gave me an insight as to why you need to cherish every living moment with your father.

You’re gone but never ever forgotten and will be kept close to my heart for eternity. I’m tired of being sad, let’s celebrate your life instead.

Lots of love always, Bridie x