.

  this picture of me sitting on that bench is pretty significant.

  I took this photo around July time of this year. the previous year 
  around August time I often used to sit in that same place and 
  just cry. I have no idea what the people in the building opposite 
  used to think.

  but this day/month/period above was important because I used 
  to walk by that building and had the realisation how much things 
  had changed and improved since the last year, and I did not just 
  cry out of the blue anymore.

  for months I couldn't even tell people my dad had died. I could
  not say the words ... that word, it had such a ring of finality to it.
  I mean I totally understood he was gone, but it was like saying
  that word meant accepting it.

  I avoided Costa Coffee for 3 months. because I could not handle 
  if a girl I knew in there asked how I was. she already knew about 
  my dad previously being ill. so I just didn't go in. I was fine so 
  long as people didn't ask how I was.

  you never realise how things have actually changed until it hits 
  you all at once.

  when things happen slowly, you hardly notice them happening. 
  a person can gradually get more ill, but because it happens so
  slowly and over a a long period of time, you kind of get used to 
  it. until something hits you out of the blue. when my dad ended 
  up in hospital in January 2013, the severity basically came out 
  of nowhere and I was faced with the prospect that he might not 
  make it through the night ... and I was not talking to him at the 
  time.

  he did make it through that night. and I did go and see him in 
  hospital. it's hard to see someone who always was such a strong 
  figure hooked up to breathing apparatus, asking "is there any 
  hope for me?" ... that is still very hard for me to think about.
  and at the time it took everything for me not to cry right there 
  and then. I looked at the ground a lot. I focused on random
  things in the ward. anything to focus my mind on something
  else ... like I said, something like that comes out of the blue 
  and hits you all at once.

  in that period it used to kill me that I would be in the gym (trying 
  to focus my mind, and failing) and he was in the hospital, alone, 
  less than half a mile up the road. I used to pray that I would get 
  another chance. and if I did, I would give him a hug.

  I got another chance. and I didn't give him a hug. I didn't correct 
  all of the things I had wanted. he was ill. everything was pretty 
  much a struggle for him. I felt awkward ...  also you slip back into 
  thinking everything is going to be okay and you will have plenty 
  of time ... but I didn't. all I got was 6 months. until the same thing 
  happened again ... and this time there was not another chance.

  I managed the tiniest of things though.

  he knows I loved him and I know he loved me. these moments 
  are what I hold onto. 

  that January was a dreadful time, but as crazy as it sounds I am 
  so grateful for it. if people think I am in a mess now, I dread to 
  think what they would have made of me, if I would not have had 
  a second chance to have corrected just a few things. I would have
  been devastated if he would have died that night and things would
  have been left how they were. 

  my last memories of my dad are horrible. that I can't write about. 
  basically what happened in January happened again 6 months 
  later. I have good memories too. when I was about 9, at school, 
  something had upset me towards the end of the day. I knew if I 
  remained upset my dad would come in and shout and get mad at 
  people and find out why I was so upset. and he did. I was pretty 
  cheeky back then. 

  he often used to take me and my sister to school in his BMW. 
  it was nice. kids were envious. like I said I have good memories. 
  I could have  had years more though. I am such a fool.

  Now.

  I am a lot better now than I was a year ago ... but in some ways 
  worst. in many ways it was easier then. finality and acceptance 
  of things is something totally different altogether. last year my 
  emotions came in waves, out of the blue the horror of what had 
  happened would hit me. now it's totally different, quite often if 
  something else upsets me, then thinking about my dad enters 
  the picture and affects everything. and like last year, everything 
  seemed a hell of a lot easier when the sun was shining. but like 
  I said at the start of this, I have made progress. it may not seem 
  like it sometimes, but I most definitely have.



  I like this photo. look how happy he looks.


  the BMW. he was not happy that day. Car problems. 
  he was fetching us all back from Bournemouth. 
  how awkward does it look. I still like the picture though.

  What I learnt.

  I spent so long thinking everything was A/B and C ... and that 
  we were very different people. only to realise I am pretty much 
  him. I wish I could have worked it all out sooner. I wish I had 
  not been so stubborn. Fathers and Sons. The irony is he basically 
  had the same relationship with his father. He was not talking to 
  his dad when he died. and he was in a very bad way in the period
  afterwards.

  Now I know how he felt. and I can't hug him. or talk to him.

  Don't waste time. Tell people how you feel.
  Learn from my mistakes.

  Thank you to the people who have helped me.
  You know who you are.