It’s hard, losing your dad.
Mine was always in the background, offering gentle humour to counterbalance my mums fixed ways. He died suddenly in 1998, he had not long turned 60, I was 24 and living at home, but focussing mostly on my own direction.
I’d been back from Uni a couple of years, working a poorly paid job, and thinking about how to progress career wise, so not really thinking about life at home being anything other than temporary.
I remember coming back from a weekend away at my girlfriends, to a house full of relatives and then being told by my mum that m dad was dead.
I guess at the time I’d not really considered who my dad was. As I was getting older I got a glimpse of the man, what he’d done though his life and who he’d met, but not got the chance to know him as a person. Just the odd conversation, but I could tell that there would have been many more, as he got to know me, as a man, and i’d get to know him.
It’s only now, well into my 40’s, with a wife and family that I look back and miss him more than I did when I was younger. All of the memories that could have been, he’d have loved his granddaughter, and would have made any excuse to visit us in Scotland for conversation and whiskey, and would have dragged my mum about with him in their retirement.
Not sure what the poin of this story is, I guess it’s reflection on the value of stopping once in a while to appreciate those who are around you, like trees in the breeze.