The Birthday Girl!

My little girl has just reached the grand ol' age of 18! She is currently out with friends painting the town red, white, green and purple!
Wish her Gar was here to see the beautiful, young woman that we dropped off in town tonight - he, like us, would've been super proud.

Hay & LaLa ready to paint the town red. x

He was right...

Everything my dear Dad said about what would happen when he dies seems to be all too true. My parents had a very poor relationship and we would often say that they couldn't live with each other and couldn't live without each other.

My Dad was a very private man who struggled with anxiety and other things. He was a hoarder - no doubt about that but he kept it down to the 2 rooms he would frequent most. And I'm not talking about carrier bags full of empty cereal boxes, it was mainly memories.... Cards from me and my brother when we were just whippersnappers or treasures he had acquired over the years gone by, BOOKS-holla!! books by the bucket load about any given subject you could think of!! Music, ironmongery incase it would come in handy, tools for various diy projects he'd done. Lest we forget that 8 months before his death he had ripped all the old kitchen cabinets out and replaced them with new ones - he was 73!!!!

But my mother could be a spiteful person and she would shout at him and nag him to do all these things that his ailing health wouldn't allow. She told him how useless he was and how when he was gone she'd chuck all the stuff out and chop down all the trees he grew and nurtured from small pips/seeds and cuttings. She said much more and much worse.

He would tell me that when he was gone she'd get rid of all his things and wipe out any memory of him ever living there.

And she has done. His stuff is all either filed away in the small room upstairs with the door firmly shut or thrown out with the rubbish. Less than 6 weeks after he died his beloved trees haven't just been pruned back, they've been decimated. The apple trees he helped me grow from pips, when I was barely out of long socks, that bore fruit faithfully every year - well they look to have gone.

My relationship with her was fractured to say the least but it feels almost irretrievable now.

I feel like I am parentless now even though she only lives 300 yards down the road.

I miss my Dad with every last little bit of me.

Just some of the poor trees, a little less oxygen for this world.

The kids

I am renaming the kids... Jitsuqueen is now taking on the moniker "LaLa" which is what Sly used to call her when he was little and Sly shall be forever known as "Doodles" - no one knows why we ever called him that as a little guy, it may have something to do with the doodlebug bomb - causes mass devastation but you never see or hear it coming.

Anyhoo, LaLa came downstairs, all dressed in skinny red jeans and a t-shirt and ready to go out to meet her friends. She looked cute. After about a full 5 minutes she dashed upstairs and returned in hippie boho trousers with a vest top and cardi.... "Ooooo that feels more like me" she says.

And it did. She looked so much more LaLa like.

                                                   

                                                   Doodles and LaLa xx

Stars that never come

I spent a long time last night sat outside with eyes skyward. The air was calm, the clouds fading away and finally I glimpsed the stars that studded the most velvety, blue sky.

In my angst riddled brain I was trying to convince myself that if I saw a shooting star I would know my Dad had sent it to let me know he was still around.


Not as crazy as you might think.....considering it is peak time for the Perseid meteor shower. This was a shoo in, I thought to myself - I can convince myself that my brain is right and my Dad is there....

Nothing, zip, nada, zero, negatory good buddy, zilch.... There were beautiful stars out there BUT they were all stationary.

Then I cried. Great, big bucket loads of tears. Just another reminder (albeit of my own creation) that my dear, dear Dad isn't here anymore.

It was a sad night.

But if anyone sees a shooting star - that'll be from my Dad, he's just letting you know he's still around...

Too hard, too difficult, too soon. JUST.TOO.MUCH.

It's been 25 days since the dearest man passed away. My Dad. Gone.
Passed away suggest he just went for a walk.... But he didn't, he died and won't be coming back.

I hurt in a way that just doesn't feel sustainable. Surely it must start to fade soon, this unimaginable feeling of being set adrift and sorrow.

I miss him so much.

I wrote this down for the celebrant who conducted his funeral, he asked for some info about this great, wonderful man whom I was lucky enough to have as my father....

A great man.

First thing you noticed about my Dad was his beard and ponytail! I loved the fact that he looked so different.

He was a quiet man, shy and humble. People underestimated him as he was so self-effacing but once you took the time to get to know him, he was not only smart but incredibly funny and he had a wicked sense of humour which he unleashed not often enough for my liking!!!

Kind hearted. Knowledgable, intelligent and wise, there’s a big difference between knowing a lot and being wise enough to know when, where and how to use that knowledge - Dad knew the difference.... He was my counsel in all aspects of my life and always gave me the benefit of his experience. 

Loving Father, DIY guru, helped us ALL out around our houses - be it plumbing, bricklaying, installing new kitchens, central heating systems!! You name it, he could do it. And if he didn’t know he’d soon learn whatever it was.

Worshipped his 2 grandchildren, who called him Gar. Lauren (nearly 18) and Cam (nearly 16), he instilled in Lauren a love for art that she has continued with throughout her life and he was so proud to learn of her great accomplishments at college and that she’d secured her place at university. From her being about age 5 he would sit with her at the kitchen table and gently guide her  as she discovered how to paint and create.. A shared passion for them both. He also knew instinctively how to calm her down if she was stressed or worried and she would turn to him for advice that he’d give freely.

And now to his grandson, Cam.... They were like 2 peas in a pod. Not only family but best friends too. Sharing a love of not only each other but numerous hobbies... trains, sudoku, computers and more than anything - each others company. They spent lots of time trying to beat their latest sudoku time or chatting about family history. Cam spent a lot of his time with his beloved “Gar.” It was well known by friends and family that Cam would go down to Gar’s house several times a week and especially for tea every Saturday and each week it would be the same meal - chicken in white wine sauce! “Gar” also taught him how to do diy jobs too and Cam complained most vocally recently, when he saw our attempts at plastering as his Gar had taught how to do it properly and on a ceiling at that!!!

He was a bit of a Dr Dolittle and all animals seemed to love him! He would even charm bees and wasps that had gone off course and flown into the kitchen into leaving by telling them “come on now Fred, out you go, you’re in the wrong place, right a bit, right a bit, nearly there...” and off they would go as if by magic. More recently he used to enjoy getting ‘marmalised’ by our puppy Sprocket who loved to play with his beard given half a chance - this used to be fine when he was a 3 month old puppy but as soon as Sprocket started approaching 9 stone we had to reign him in a bit and Dad used to end up covered in slobber but with his beard in tact.

He has had many pets over the years and most of them were probably his idea but he let us think we were the ones that wanted them! 

He did like to keep things incase they came in handy and to be honest all of his stuff was  a bit of an Arkwright’s emporium and in didn’t matter how fanciful the item was...he probably had one of it at least... 

I loved the fact that he really loved my husband and he and Shermil would while away the hours on a Saturday night (as they were both night owls) talking about everything and nothing, putting the world to rights and laughing at unimportant stuff. Time they both looked forward to, I’d be sat on the settee and as soon as it got to 11.45pm on a Saturday, Sherm would text Dad to make sure it was ok for him to go down and the replying text would turn up in seconds saying “sure, door’s unlocked” and off Shermil would go for his weekly social!

Mostly he showed me what being a great parent was all about by treating me kindly and gently and guiding me without me even knowing it.

Very loved and very missed. 

My best boys....

Me and my Pa

Jitsuqueen & Gar