5 days ago marked the 6 month anniversary of my Dad’s passing, and I was going to post on that day about him and just have a little rant about how much I miss him and such, but as you can imagine – I wasn’t really in the mood to post about it. I kind of feel like talking about it today, so here goes..
6 months ago, I lost a very important person. I’m not going to dwell in the past and what could have been, but I’ll give you a brief overview.
Ever since I can remember, my dad was very very poorly. At least once a year we had that dreaded phone call “You should probably come and say goodbye…” or “He’s really not very well this time…”. So after while, I desensitized to it all. It was quite the norm for me!
But a few years ago, Dad got so poorly that it became clear that he could not look after himself so we found him a nice nursing home close to home, he was only 45. Then, he got a lot worse, he was 50 at this point, and the only place that would be able to look after him properly was in Bradford, 4 hours away. Strangely enough, it was where he went to University all those years ago. But that made it very hard for us to go and see him, which then meant he spent a lot of time alone.
Just before me and Jamie were due to move into the flat, in June. Jamie and I decided to brave the long journey in my very unreliable 19 year old Micra (oh god..) and go and see him. I was so excited because I hadn’t seen him in almost a year and he was beyond excited, he was like a 5 year old at christmas.
When we got there we spent about half an hour locked in each others arms, crying, laughing, all sorts! All in all, it was a lush trip and it was so nice to see him. He wasn’t very well and his diabetes was all over the place, so he collapsed a few times but I’ve seen him worse so I wasn’t phased much.
We sat for hours catching up, telling him about the flat, laughing around, etc. He was the biggest joker I knew so he spent most of the time mucking around with us and playing practical jokes on me and such, but it was so lovely. Eventually it was time to go home because we had a long journey ahead of us, so we said our goodbyes and made our promises that it wont be long until we see each other again
Only a few days after our reunion, we had a phone call. “You need to come and say goodbye..”. We all decided that we would slowly make our way up that evening, because it was such a treacherous drive and such, so we didn’t want to panic and rush over and end up never making it there. So we waited for my brother to get home from school so that he could stay with his dad for the evening, and we whilst waiting for him, that horrible phone call came. We were too late. He was already gone. And it hurt.
He knew he was poorly. So he made two wishes, two goals he wanted to achieve before he passed.
1. Make it to 50
2. Walk me down the aisle
Well, he achieved one of those. But we figured that when he found out me and Jamie were moving into together, that was enough for him.
He had the most beautiful funeral. In his youth, he was in the RAF (which is how he and Mum met), so when his funeral came along – it was was with full military honors. He was cremated with an RAF Flag and one of their eldest members lead the coffin in and saluted him as they drew the curtains. I felt so proud in that moment.
6 months on and yes, it still really hurts. But he was very poorly and in lots of pain whereas now, he’s happy and no longer suffering. I have a photo of him (the feature image for this) on my desk at work so he can watch over me and see how well I’m doing for myself. I’m going to make him so very proud!
So, Dad. I hope you’re having a brilliant time up there, I miss you with all my heart and there never goes a day where I don’t think of you. My hero.
All my love,
Your Kirbles xxx