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.
