Father's Day

Back in April, I wrote about missing my mum on Mother's Day. Today is Father's Day. My husband is enjoying a well deserved lie in and my children are busy so I'm taking this time to be quiet and get some writing done. My dad died two days after my daughter was born. It was unexpected and more numbing than shocking. One came in and another went out - joy and sadness in equal measures.

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".

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  1. Lovely pictures. I especially like the one with him and the tram.

    I wasn't close to either my father or my step-father, so Father's Day isn't a day I've ever really celebrated. For me, the man in my life was always my grandfather, and that was good enough for me.

    He just passed away this past Easter, and though I've never been a big believer in things you can't see or hear, his death changed my mind.

    The morning he died, everyone was in the hospital room, save for my aunt. She and he had a very complicated relationship, and she wasn't especially close to him. We all expected him to survive through the night, so it was a surprise when we looked over and he wasn't breathing. It couldn't have been more than a minute that had passed and we sat there, shocked, not knowing how to react. (He was DNR.) I left the room to call my aunt, but it went straight to voice mail. I walked back into the room and my mother was on the phone and crying. My aunt had called my mother at the exact moment I had tried reaching her. She felt him go.

    These things can be shrugged off to those who have never experienced them, but for those that do, they are the glimpses of eternity that keep us going. I know it was his way of telling her that it was ok that she wasn't there. And he was saying his goodbyes.

    I have no doubts that your father was with you that day and letting you know you weren't alone.

    Wonderful post.

  2. What a beautiful post! I totally believe in what you saw. I've had experiences like that myself.

  3. Thanks for the comments. Big hug to you, Jennifer, and all your family.


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