Happy New Year, Dad.

I miss my dad.
Through all the turmoil; all the moments of anger, hurt, uncomfortableness. Even through all his own pain, discomfort, the disruption of Parkinson’s disease degrading his human form and bodily organs failing.

I didn’t feel him at the end of this year.
The anniversary of his death on Christmas Eve, then a week later remembering his birthday on New Year’s Eve. A busy time of the year when it is easy to not notice many things. So I paused, left space for his memory, thinking about the present more than the past. I remembered him with a toast of his favourite drink – Cooper’s Stout “Happy Birthday Dad”. For a change, there were no tears, no heartache, no grief.

He wasn’t close to me this year. He was somewhere else, being himself, knowing I was okay at this time.

And now, a week later, with clear thoughts, I remember and miss the spirit that sparkled in a way like no other. The love that he gave for so many people, selflessly. He cared in his own way, and I thank him for expressing that as best he could.

So there are no more visits, no more chats. No more awkwardness and no more love. All I have are the memories – the feelings and moments, emotions imprinted on my heart.


Out Observations 2.

Out tonight
In the city
At the pub
In the room
With the fire
Called The Library
For a party
Fortieth Birthday
Drinks on arrival
See new faces
Familiar faces
Smiles and greetings
Catchups and news
Warm finger food
Candles and singing
Cake and cutting


(27 June 2015)

The Party.

The preparations
The planning
The house
The cleaning
The decorating
The assistants
The balloons
The friends
The costumes
The acquaintances
The introductions
The photobooth
The cocktails
The wine
The fun
The food
The cake
The candles
The desserts
The prizes
The conversations
The leaving
The cleanup
The leftovers
The glassware
The dishwasher
The flowers
The presents
The unwrapping
The unwinding
The night