Happy birthday Dad.
Today you would have been 76.
The last time I saw you was when you were 60 … so I would love to sit down with you and talk about the last 16 years.
All the stuff I’ve done, all the mistakes I’ve made, all the dreams I still want to fulfil.
And I know you’d be full of questions … constantly stopping me mid-conversation to ask about something I’d view as trivial but you’d see as important because it would help you understand the journey, not just the highlights.
But you’d be fascinated by it all.
Where I’ve lived.
Where I’ve gone.
Who I’ve met.
And as much as I know you’d love whatever ridiculous gadget I’d got for your birthday, you’d regard this conversation as the best gift of them all.
It would be for me too.
And I know that you would love to look into Mum’s eyes and say how proud you are of her for how she has lived since you’ve been gone.
That you’d want to tell her how thankful you are for how she looked after you, even though we always knew from your eyes and hugs.
And you’d be telling her all this while gently holding and caressing her hand.
And I would remember when I was very young, I came into the lounge from the back of the house and saw you and Mum on the sofa – watching television while holding hands – and I said “stop being so silly”.
And I’d think what a fool I was.
Because I’d give anything to see that again.
And I know Mum would too.
And I know you’d be secretly happy that I have tears in my eyes as I type this.
You’d be sad that I was sad, but happy that you are still so much in my heart and mind.
And you are.
Every single day.
I miss you Dad.
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