It was twenty-three years ago today that my dad died. \u00a0If you had told me then that twenty-three years on I would still miss him I probably wouldn’t have believed you. \u00a0The initial pain of his death was such that for a time I didn’t think I’d ever get over it, but inside I believed the cliches such as “Time heals”. \u00a0It doesn’t. \u00a0What time does is it enables you to live with your loss. \u00a0You get on with the business of living your life WITH your loss, rather than GETTING OVER your loss. \u00a0And sometimes a huge wave of grief washes over you, pulling, dragging you down into the foamy sadness that is the life of a loved one cut short. \u00a0On Monday, the Sister had a special birthday. \u00a0And as we all sat together at her celebratory dinner, I know that she, the Brother, the Daughter and I all felt his absence. \u00a0He was such a larger-than-life man that it’s almost impossible not to miss him. \u00a0And I always find it very sad to think how he would have loved the two sports-mad Grandsons (the Nephews) that he never knew.<\/p>\n
I know that if you keep scratching a wound it never heals and I try so very hard to think not with sadness that he is no more but with gladness that he was, and that he was MY Dad. \u00a0But sometimes, mixed in with all the happy, funny, poignant memories there’s an ache and a raw hurt that seems impossible to bear, and unbelievably real after all this time.<\/p>\n
RIP Ron Spires. \u00a0I love you xx<\/p>\n
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It was twenty-three years ago today that my dad died. \u00a0If you had told me then that twenty-three years on I would still miss him I probably wouldn’t have believed you. \u00a0The initial pain of his death was such that … Continue reading