A year ago yesterday was the last time I saw my Dad. At 9.16pm tonight a year ago, I received the last text message from my Dad. He'd been diagnosed with terminal cancer about 2 weeks previously and we'd been told he had 6-9 months. He died in the early hours of the morning of 4th November 2020.
There's not a day I don't think of him. I can hear his voice. It's not as raw as it was but I miss him acutely. He had his demons over the years and our relationship wasn't strong at times. But over the last ten years or so it'd all changed. He saw my DC as a second chance, to right the wrongs I guess. And now they'll grow up not knowing him.
I know it's the natural order but there's few people that love you unconditionally - he was one of them. And that's gone now.
We've done a year of firsts and I guess tomorrow completes that.
I don't need sympathy or advice - I'm just writing because I feel I want to.
So tonight Dad - as every other - I'm thinking of you and wishing you were still here. And I'm mightily fed up that you've had a year and you've still not come to visit me as you promised X