Dear Dad

Dear Dad

You are not here.  You left a year ago.  I try and remember your last words to me and I think they were “Thank you”.  I seem to remember telling you I had done nothing and you begging to differ, always seeing me as better than I am actually am.

I wrote you a letter before you died so you would know the things that I wanted to tell you even if I could not say them out loud.

I did OK when you died.  It seemed to take me a lot less time to start functioning compared to when Mum passed away. 

I think you would have been so proud and moved when I wrote your eulogy and delivered it in church.  I did everything right even coming to see your body when I had bottled that with Mum.

Remember that hug and who it came from?  Well she has looked out for me well this year.  I am never sure why but I am glad she does.  It makes me feel I do perhaps have something to contribute to the world.

Oh, and that thing you kept telling me to do, well I went ahead and did it.

We took a family holiday at Butlins in October and saw the memorial to the Royal Arthur.  I wonder how many know that Butlins Skegness served as a ship during the war.  You trained there and we thought of you.

C struggled a lot after you left.  He messed up at school for the first time ever.  It was a real worry but he is back on track now.  I think he just missed you so very much and perhaps your boys’ night in with the football and snacks most of all.

R came through fine and says he sees you sometimes.

W currently seems more upset about a long dead hamster than she does about you.  I smile as I hear you say “She does right!”

Little did I know that by the February I would be crossing the Atlantic with your grandson.  I still like to think you had a hand in that somehow.  It was an amazing trip but there were moments when I was overwhelmed knowing I could not return home and tell you all about it. 

In May we had some awful news that P was going to be made redundant.  That charity that he has worked for so faithfully and the one you paid your membership to out of your pension has treated us like the proverbial.   It is a terrible thing to say but I was glad you had died so you could not see what was happening to us at the hands of a charity you rated so highly.

We don’t know what the future holds and it is scary and it is threatening everything.  I hold on to what you told me just before you left.  “Life changes Cath”  Such wisdom in so few words.

At the weekend, I was at a blogging awards do.  I was out of my depth as I so often am in social situations.  I held on to how you used to tell me “They would not have invited you if they did not want you to be there”.  I needed the time away which is really why I went.  I never really started blogging to meet others or to get awards.

I started blogging because Mum told me to write and because on days like today when feelings are overwhelming, it helps.

What else?  Well, I hope you are doing OK wherever you went.  Your funeral was packed with people – you were such a quiet man and I don’t think you ever had a clue how people rated you so very highly.

Hoping to have some good news for you soon.  Have a word with Irene would you?  She could always move mountains.

Lots of Love


Cath x


Cath x


4 thoughts on “Dear Dad

  1. A heartfelt letter. I know how you feel being able to say in a letter things that are hard to say out loud. I wrote letters to both my parents on their deaths and these were read out during the service. Copies went with them to the crematorium and I still have the originals. They still make me cry when I read them, many years later.
    I believe in the power of the written word, it is sad that emails have taken their place as they are fleeting and gone, where a letter is yours forever, if you wish to keep it.

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