I miss my father, especially our conversations. We would happily talk the world to rights. We'd disagree sometimes, even argue, but my father never let the sun go down on a row. He would always make sure we were friends before we went to bed - even when we lived at different ends of the country.
Not long after we'd moved to our new life in Wales, I was attempting to get my children into the car for school one morning. "No, don't do that to your brother. And you leave her alone as well. Please sit down. Seat belts people!" I had my 'get on with it' goggles on, head down, mission in mind. Having successfully secured my offspring, I turned back towards the house and in a shower of sunlight at the front door of our new home, I could have sworn I saw my father standing there smiling. I blinked and the image was gone. A few minutes later as we drove along the country road to the school, movement in the hedges to my left grabbed my attention and a hawk, larger than any I'd ever seen, took flight and flew out ahead of us. We trailed it along our route for a couple of minutes before it disappeared. Make of this what you will, but I've always found reassurance in what happened that morning.
I'd like to wish all the fathers out there the best of days, including my own. As it says on one of the cards my children will give to their father later today, "Everyone thinks they have the best dad in the world but I know that I'm right".