Hello Humans,
Today is a slightly more sombre post as yesterday was one year since my dad died. I really don't know how I feel about it, because I don't need a day to remember my dad, I miss him every day, but times like this are especially difficult.
Yesterday I made the decision to read the letter my dad wrote to me before he died. I’d known about it all year but was always worried about reading it because it is the final words he’ll ever say to me. This past year, I felt very resentful towards my dad because I felt he prioritised other people during his illness - we had so many visitors that sometimes it felt we didn’t get the chance to just be us five for a little while longer.
But on reading the letter I realised how much time he put into writing it, and whilst he couldn't say it to us, he recognised the importance in having something left to us when he isn’t around.
I wanted to share some of my fondest memories of my dad, and this includes the good, the bad and the ugly, because only when you see all of that do you see the full person, not hiding behind rose-tinted glasses or the idealistic version of my dad, but the bitter honest truth. Because I was fortunate enough to be one of the very few people who knew my dad completely.
After a lot of reflection, I realised a lot of my memories of my dad are in the car. When I was really struggling and having meltdowns a lot, one of my dad’s ideas was to take me in the car- sometimes we’d drive, or just sit, once he even took me to KFC and whilst those memories aren’t easy to think about, I recognise that a lot of necessary healing happened in the car with my dad.
A happier memory of being in the car with my dad was our road trips, whether it was a trip to Poppleton to visit our favourite group of misfits who we consider family, or longer journeys to extended family, my dad always made it ‘hilarious‘ and taught me a lot about navigation!
The last road trip we had was rather unintentional, as we embarked on a church youth trip to Soul Survivor in Peterborough, as after arriving at the suite we realised my dad had forgotten the tent poles. Instead of giving up no buying or borrowing another tent, my dad chose to drive all the way home and back to pick up the tent poles. I chose to go with him to keep him company and although caused by a problem, it was a great nine hours!
I miss driving with my dad a lot, I'd always imagined he'd teach me to drive and one day I would be able to drive him somewhere for a road trip, but I guess I'll have to have my own adventures.
See you next time,
E x
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