Time and Distance

Taking a rare step back from books for a moment and reflecting on the past year or so, this is going to be quite a personal post. My life has changed so much in the past few years, I was married and living in a lovely house. Things happened and my marriage broke down, I moved back home with my mum. I got into relationships with people I thought cared about me and loved me (and I honestly thought I loved them) but now I’ve had time and distance I know that I was naïve. I was blind to their tricks and manipulation and cheating because I so desperately wanted someone to just love me for me. But I didn’t love them either; I just wanted to feel that I did in order to feel something other than shitty.

Fast forward to latter end of last year and I was beginning to get my confidence back, I went to Chicago with one of my best friends and came back full of ideas, energy and the desire to start making the changes and steps in my life I had put off for so long. And then my mum passed away suddenly. It’s not even been a year since she left us and I still hurt more than people know or realise, or even show. I still have nights where I see things that happened that night so clearly in my head that it hurts to breathe and I get launched into an existential panic about changing the outcome. I still blame myself for not going downstairs 5 or 10 minutes sooner, and although my brother tells me I shouldn’t think like that, it’s something I will carry with me forever. Having to do CPR on your own mum isn’t something you forget and I never will. I’m hoping that sometime in the near future I will be in a position where I feel ready to get counselling and speak to a professional about how I feel but at the moment I feel that I would unravel and not know how to put myself back together. So I manage by way of anti-depressants, making to do lists and pre-occupying myself with hobbies.

The past few weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about various things. But mostly about how selfish I have been. I got into a relationship with someone I thought was “amazing” and rushed into something I wasn’t ready for, so when they ended it abruptly because they couldn’t deal with my anxiety I was shocked and upset but really I shouldn’t have been and I should have payed attention to all the red flags about their own behaviour. In hindsight they were nothing special and definitely not someone I should have wasted so much time pining over. They didn’t deserve me at all, I didn’t see or realise my own worth but I do now. I distanced myself from friends and family and existed in a little bubble and did some really stupid things, things that hurt those close to me and made them worry unnecessarily. Things I’m not proud of and for that I can only apologise.

I travelled to Amsterdam for 4 days on a solo trip and did some much needed soul searching and it was good for me. Not long after I returned I started a new job (which I absolutely love and feel so lucky to have) and got back in touch with someone who has always been in the background of my life. Someone I met 14 years ago at Monday night Ritz, when he spilt a pint on me.

That night all those years ago, I looked in his eyes and laughed and we spent the whole night sitting on the stairs (him ditching his friends, me ditching my bro and our friends) just talking to one another. We dated a little bit but the timing was bad, but we stayed in touch. Years later we once again got re-acquainted and dated again, but it wasn’t too long after my dad had passed away, I wasn’t in the best of places and neither was he. But he was someone I always kept on Facebook, always thought about. Last year I posted something on Facebook and he commented on it, and we got chatting again. I got such a thrill and warmth from talking to him. I saw he was in a relationship and eased off as I didn’t want to make his girlfriend uncomfortable but still thought about him.

Anyway, on the first day in my new job, we got talking again. We didn’t stop. He phoned me and it wasn’t uncomfortable, it just felt right. There were no awkward silences or phatic conversation. Fast forward a bit and we start dating and it was going well, like really well. And now, almost 2 months since we made it “Facebook official” I couldn’t imagine being without him. And in fact, I don’t know why we didn’t do it sooner. I honestly believe he was the one that got away but thankfully we found each other again. He’s not like anyone else. I can truly be myself with him, he doesn’t judge me, get angry at me for being upset about things or make me feel like a “head case” or call me one because I have anxiety and depression. He makes me laugh so much, he has one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever known and above all I trust him 100%. I don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder, or worry about another girl or anything like that because he gives me no reason to. No matter whether we’re together or apart, he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room. For some reason, he loves me for who I am my faults and all. And I can honestly say that I love him too and on some level I think I always have. Over the years whenever I’ve heard certain songs, they’ve made me think of him and I’ve smiled. And now it’s so nice to lie in his arms and listen to those songs and know that they made him think of me too.

Me and KF

Being with him makes me want to be a better person and for the first time in a long time, I actually feel like I have a future to look forward to. When my mum died I was in pieces and didn’t know how I’d get through each day. Part of me feels like she brought him to me, a little cheesy but I honestly believe it to be true. Since I’ve been with him, I’ve been taking steps to sort things out in my life. My divorce is underway, the house we shared is on the market and it’s all remained amicable, which I’m glad about. I wish no bad to my ex and hope he finds happiness one day, but we both want to get it sorted quickly so we can start our new lives.

Other little changes mean I’ve been looking at my relationships; I’ve not made time for some people where I should have done and consequently have had my head up my own arse thinking my shit is the worse. When that’s not true at all, other people have been going through stuff and I should have been there to support them or check in and I didn’t or haven’t. But that’s going to change. I am trying to make amends with people and patch up what I can. I’m trying to be kinder to others and to myself.

I’m trying to become vegetarian because I hate seeing what’s happening to the planet and I think of my beautiful niece and nephew and don’t want their generation to suffer. I’m focusing on my career and pushing for skills and experience that I hope will make me better at what I do. I’m booking onto exercise classes that I enjoy (burlesque, aerial hoop and pole fitness) and trying to worry less about my shape and how I look and more about how the classes make me feel. I’m taking up a bullet journal to help with my anxiety and have booked a holiday for February next year because I want to see the world with the person I love and make memories.

I know it’s not going to be easy and that everything won’t happen overnight but I’m trying to be better, more understanding and more loving. I don’t want negativity or bitterness or anger to be part of me or my life. I’m trying to let that go and with Kyle, I feel like that’s possible. Life is far too short and precious to waste. So here’s to a healthy life, with good memories made with amazing people and above all, a life filled with love.

G.
x

Everything I Know About Love – A Review

I’ve had this book sat on my shelf for a good few months; it came onto my radar when I overheard some female colleagues discussing it. I was intrigued to see what all the fuss was about. Dolly Alderton talks us through her teenage years and her first realisation of boys/men. Instantly I found the content relatable when she discussed MSN Messenger and the way you’d sign out and then back in again to get your crushes attention. I was guilty of this, I was also guilty of having the courage of being hidden behind a computer screen to say to a guy “You’re so cute, I really fancy you!” and then having the instant panic a second after hitting send of being rejected or laughed at so covering my back with a “Omg sorry, my cousin wrote that!” which when I think about it, was the worst excuse ever.

As the book goes on we learn about Dolly’s adult life, her early 20’s, nights out where she drank until the early hours of the morning (and still went to work) and the whirlwind relationships with men. There are moments of the book that are laugh out loud funny and some that really struck a chord with me. Especially when talking about her anxiety and relationship with drink. She looks at the power of female friendship and dissects how, as women; a lot of us tend to put what we think a man wants ahead of what we actually want. It’s these moments that I found myself nodding my head in agreement and feeling so happy to see someone being so open and candid about these things.

Dolly Alderton Book.jpg

It’s not a book that men should avoid either, Dolly hasn’t written this as some feminist manifesto or celebration of sisterhood, but actually takes ownership that there are no bad men or bad women, just some bad timings, decisions and ways of dealing with things. As she says later on in the book, and I’m paraphrasing here, no break up happens because you did nothing wrong, on some level you were responsible for the relationship breaking down, no matter how small. So don’t lay the blame on the man. You have to take responsibility and courage to look at what you did wrong too.  She also talks about dating in your 30’s (something I had some experience with) and once again I found her words to be incredibly true. Everyone has a history, especially if they’re single in their 30’s! One line particularly jumped out at me.

“If you lose respect for someone, you won’t be able to fall back in love with them.”

This made me think of my ex and our marriage breaking down, but it also made me think of myself. For many years I had no respect for myself and consequently found it hard to love myself and see anything worthy in me. It’s taken time for me to get where I am, and I still have days where I long to be that 17 year old girl with no worries or loss or heartbreak and that unshakable confidence I had at such a young age, but I’m getting there. I’m learning to know who I am, faults and all, and respect who I am, even love who I am. This book is more about friendship and the power of the “mundane” aspects of love that often get overlooked for not being particularly awe inspiring. But they’re actually the moments that mean the most (and the ones you should cherish) they’re the moments I know I long to share with my mum since her passing. The moments that seemed insignificant at the time but actually they were perfect moments between me and her. Dolly puts it more beautifully than I ever could.

“…it also happens when you’re lying on blow-up air beds in a childhood bedroom, sitting in A&E or in the queue for a passport or in a traffic jam. Love is a quiet, reassuring, relaxing, pottering, pedantic, harmonious hum of a thing; something you can easily forget is there, even though its palms are outstretched beneath you in case you fall.”

It’s hard not to read and finish this book without taking stock of your life, thanking the world silently for all the good it gives you and enjoying the sun on your skin. It’s more than a book; it’s a hug and an awakening.

Star Rating out of 5: 5

Have you read it? What were your thoughts? Comment below, happy reading beauts.

G.
x

Without Her…

It’s been a long time since I put pen to paper or fingers to keys if you’re feeling pedantic.  But my life has changed so much in the time since I last wrote here.

I took my first trip to America in September with a close friend, who is more like my adopted sister, and we went to Riot Fest in Chicago. It was incredible. I fell in love with that place so much. The skyline’s are like nothing I have ever seen before and it helped give me a lot of clarity and space to think about the things that have happened over the past few years. I came back full of confidence, drive and clear about what I wanted to do and how I was going to make it happen.

But then life dealt me the hardest blow I’ve ever had to suffer. It’s hard for me to write about because it’s all still very clear in my head. In the early hours of Wednesday 3rd October I found my mum on the living room floor, she wasn’t breathing or responding to me saying her name. I don’t know how I did it but I rolled her on her back, cleared her airways and started chest compression’s whilst dialing 999. I had to do this for 5 minutes, whilst the woman helped me count and kept me up to date with where the ambulance was, I felt something crack and panicked but the woman on the other end of the phone said that was normal. And then when they arrived, I was told there was nothing they could do. I begged them to use the defibrillator but they told me it wouldn’t do anything.

It’s hard to say how I felt in that moment. I held my dad’s hand as he took his last breath and left, but I never in a million years thought my mum would die. I never thought she’d leave me. It felt like I was falling but nothing was there to catch me. Everything suddenly seemed so far away and unrealistic but what I felt inside made it very clear that it was very much real. Just hours before we had sat and talked whilst eating our tea. We’d laughed and hugged and now she was gone. I couldn’t and still can’t get my head around it. Losing someone you love is never easy, but to lose her just broke me. She was my best friend, my confidante, my cheerleader…She gave me hope on my darkest days.

meandmum

The days following blurred into one long day, of beating myself up that I should have checked on her sooner, I should have tried harder with the CPR. I kept checking my phone waiting for her to text or call me. This has probably been the hardest thing to adjust to. In the 33 years of my life there hadn’t been a day where I hadn’t spoken to my mum either in a text, on the phone or in person. I suddenly realised how alone I was. Don’t get me wrong I have a lovely and amazing brother, who took charge of planning the funeral and I have amazing friends and extended family. But the truth is, when my marriage broke down, my mum and I became a family again. And now she’s gone, I feel like a jigsaw piece that doesn’t really fit in anywhere.

It was hard enough having to take each day but what it made it worse was the fact that I now also found myself potentially homeless. I reached out to my ex who I’d overpaid by £2.5k and asked for the money back or a 10month break so that I could help pay for the funeral and wouldn’t be homeless. But was greeted with a response that just hurt and made me feel worse. My brother and I had to start going through the house and selling what we could to pay for the funeral. None of us really had time to grieve.

Because there was no obvious cause of death, it also meant delays to when my mother could be released from the Coroner and consequently meant that we only had one day to visit my mum at the Chapel of rest. All I could think about all that time was how she was alone and cold and I know she would have hated that. I picked out her favourite jumper and jeans because she liked being cosy and warm. I kissed her on the forehead and stroked her hand and we put some sentimental things in the coffin with her. I hated leaving her there, knowing that would be the last time I would physically see her.

mandm2
The funeral was the hardest day I’ve ever had to live through. And I don’t think there are any words in the English language that convey how hard that was. My heart broke saying goodbye to her and I still have moments where I feel like I will wake up and it will all have been some terrible nightmare. I feel lost. I lost so much in a short space of time, my mum, my home and my childhood house. Even now it’s hard to wonder why I wake up each day. A couple of weeks after I had my phone stolen, which had voicemail messages from my mum on it. Luckily, I had photos etc. backed up but I’ve lost all the text messages she sent and the voicemail messages. Another of life’s cruel jokes sent to test me I guess.

Some people say things like “I’m sorry.” Ask how you are or say things they intend to make you feel better like “At least they’re at peace.” Or “She’s with your dad now.” I’m not criticising the people who have said this to me. It’s nice they want to offer words of comfort and send their love. But the truth is…It doesn’t make you feel better, you’re really not ok and there’s no need to say sorry for something you didn’t do or had no control over.

It’s getting closer to Christmas, again a time of year I have spent with my mum with the exception of one and I’m finding it so hard. She’s always been an integral and loving part of this time of year and her presence is going to be missed even more. Since my mum passed, two friends have lost parents. And my heart goes out to them. I won’t say sorry etc. but I will let them know to go through the motions, that there’s no right or wrong way to grieve and that I am here if they need someone to talk to or a distraction. Because that’s the truth.

My life changed so much in the space of a few hours, and I feel the loss of my mama every single second of every single day. So it’s nice sometimes to have someone willing to distract you or treat you normal when your life is anything but normal. I struggle each day and weirdly, even though it’s the thing I long to hear the most, I cannot watch a video of her playing with my niece because hearing her voice breaks me. It’s been a weird month or so…And I still have a lot to go through. But I hope I have the courage to face each day just like my mama did. I hope I can make her proud. And to all those people out there, who are facing their futures and Christmas without a loved one, please know you’re not alone in this pain. Please don’t struggle in silence. Please don’t give up.

All my love..

G.
x

Love in the Time of Cholera – A Review

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I worked a lot during February, I was even working on Valentine’s Day. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind work at all, I happen to really love my job, nor did I mind working on Valentine’s Day. I’ve always been a firm believer that it’s just another day and if you love someone that much you shouldn’t need that one day to validate it or say it. Anyway, I digress, I went to Waterstone’s (other book shops available) a few days before and saw that they was doing a “Blind Date with a Book” and I figured as I’d be working and alone that I should play along.

16425895_10154515190198650_8117656612771150265_n.jpg

All the books were packaged in red paper and tied with brown string, a slight synopsis of the book inside, written elegantly on a brown tag with the price. I spent lots of time mulling over the choices but picked one out that I kept going back to. When I got home, I put it to one side and promised that after my 16 hour day in studio I’d open it up. Sure enough Tuesday 14th February arrived, the penultimate day of filming, it had been a long week, but I was trying to stay positive, just a few more days and then I had some time off to catch up on sleep and let my hair down. As luck would have it, it ended up being a really great day…I spent most of the day laughing, largely down to the company I was in that day. I went home feeling good, a smile on my face and after taking a quick shower I pulled the book onto my lap and tore the paper off. It was like Christmas, only with a gift I’d bought myself. And there it was. A book I had picked up MANY times previously but never bought, I smiled again.

16683958_10154538265833650_8452087794125422393_n.jpg

I have mentioned previously how passion is important, passion ignites the soul, makes your eyes shine brighter, and puts a fire in your belly. I ended up having a conversation with an amazing person about books in April and they mentioned this one specifically. Their passion came across to me so clearly that it was tangible, even though the conversation took place via WhatsApp. I swore to myself that when I got home that evening I would start reading the book, and that’s exactly what I did.

The style of writing was so accessible and beautiful that it was hard not to fall in love with it very early on, with Marquez using language so perfectly that was easy to envisage the people, the surroundings, the feelings. I felt myself following Florentino and urging him on, holding my breath and feeling his anguish as he waited for Fermina to reply. I melted at the romance, the declarations of love making me sigh and press my head against the tram window on my commute to work. The book spoke to my hopelessly, romantic soul and I was hooked.

My heart broke when Fermina returned and rejected Florentino and yet I remained hopeful that all would be okay, it had to be okay. Learning how the two lived over the years, separately yet still tied to one another, Florentino in his promise to never let go of his love for Fermina, Fermina with the ghosts of memories of Florentino sat in the park. Gabriel Garcia Marquez penned something so honest about the anguish of unrequited love, but also about the power of the human spirit, to withstand pain and heartbreak and still remain so vehemently hopeful. He writes of the passion of life and love and loss and does it so lyrically that there were times I forgot to breathe.

Even the more sensual aspects of the book, where Florentino takes various lovers, were written with an understanding that most modern writers tend to lack. I am a stupid, hopeless romantic and this book touched me. Entirely quotable passages that made me dog ear pages so that I could re-read them, tracing my fingers over the page to make sure I hadn’t dreamed them. This book is more than about love, it’s about the power of love, passion, the power of the human spirit, the courage to keep on going and to always keep hope. It’s made me crave for a simpler time, for more open communication and for less negative stigma attached to matters of the heart. Love is frowned upon and given negative connotations, like the advancement of technology, the world has become cold and demanding. Everything has to be instant. But sincerely why isn’t it ok to pen a love letter and post it? The excitement of receiving something you wasn’t expecting, a letter written in ink by the very hand you long to hold. I’ve never personally received a love letter, but the idea is so romantic to me.

This book awoken my soul and stoked the fire in my heart. A truly beautiful novel that will make you realise the importance of happiness and taking chances.

Star Rating out of 5: 5

“Sometimes their letters were soaked by rain, soiled by mud, torn by adversity, and some were lost for a variety of reasons, but they always found a way to be in touch with each other again.”

love.gif

Happy reading.

G.
x

 

Perspective

I wrote this about a month ago…After having some time to distance myself from a situation and think things through.

 

You came into my life so suddenly
I thought you were a change for the good
But I was so clouded in my view
Reaching for a better tomorrow
Wanting to believe I could feel happiness again

The years passed and I settled
Knowing your actions weren’t right
Knowing I deserved more
I convinced myself it would be ok
That one day you would wake up and want me completely
That I would be enough

But I was foolish
I only saw what I wanted to see
Ignoring all the signs, the feeling in my stomach
Because knowing the reality would hurt me again
You spoke lies to me with a truthful face
And I couldn’t argue back
Choking on your false reassurances

I began to fade at the edges
Like I was not worthy of being seen
Not even by you
No matter how hard I tried

Everything is clearer now
Things shouldn’t have gone on as long as they did
The way you made me feel like I was nothing
It still clings to me like an extra skin

But I’m peeling it away
Exposing myself and my worth bit by bit
Or at least trying to
Ready to let go and take a chance
In the hope of finding a love that may be returned
And not just picked up when it suits

G.
x

Trying…

A1

It’s true what they say, certain moments stay with you. Sometimes they’re huge life changing events like the day the man you love gets down on one knee and asks you to be his wife, or the cry of a baby that pierces the air after spending all night trying to push it from your body. And sometimes it’s the moment your heart breaks when a hand goes limp in yours and you know that the person holding it has taken their last breath. I’ve only experienced two of the above, one filled me with a happiness and love I didn’t know existed in me, the other filled me with something I have no words for, it’s left me reaching out for something I know isn’t there.

It comes out of nowhere, a sense of dread pressing down on me, smothering me as I desperately look for a way out. It’s a golf ball that forms in my throat when I try to recall his voice and a pain in my heart when I realise that’s long forgotten. Stored somewhere dark and dusty that I can’t quite reach. It’s the moment I realise he left this earth 7 years ago, and in some ways the pain makes it feel like it was only yesterday, but in another it makes it feel like a lifetime as I try to recall the features of his face and sound of his laugh.

It’s the anger I feel at myself when I wish I could have done more, could do more, but lack the motivation or energy to do it. The empty promises I’ve made myself to make the most of each day and live life to the fullest and enjoy it whilst I’m here, when really there’s that dark shadow always floating in the background lying in wait to reach out its hand and hold it on my shoulder. It’s reminding me that I’m too tired or busy or skint to do that thing that I swore I’d do before it was too late. It’s the loss of breath and blur of vision, the thin layer of sweat that breaks out on the palms of my hands as I try to stop the anxiety attack that stops me in my tracks, when all I wanted to do that day was to go for a walk and enjoy the sun.

a2

It’s the smell of rain on grass, in warm summer air, that makes me recall the small details I’d like to forget, the hands clasped and cold. It’s the gaping hole I’ve carried with me every day. I struggle to hide it all the time, painting a false expression of happiness on my face on the worse days, in the hope that if I try hard enough it will work. The colours are less vibrant now, my breathing more laboured. I’m struggling and I don’t know how to explain it or what to do but I’m scared and I hate myself and right now all I want to do is vanish. I know that’s a selfish idea, because he can’t be here and even now that’s something I cannot comprehend. I look at his photo across the room and I want an answer about why he can’t just be here. I’m 30 years old and I still can’t grasp what’s happened. All I know is that it hurts to breathe most days and that pushing back the duvet and getting out of bed is a struggle on a daily basis, its a constant static fuzz in my head. When people ask me what my anxiety and depression feels like I don’t know what to say. My tongue swells up and I lack the ability to vocalise it, so I wrote this instead. It’s smothering, all consuming, terrifying dread. A fear of something that’s already happened, things that are yet to happen and plenty of things that are out of my control, I know it’s not rational but I can’t control it, I can’t stop it. I wish I could.

I always knew growing up that I would have to lose people, but I never knew or considered how the death of my father would impact on me, thoughts of the night he slipped from this world sharp in my mind. I mean, I was holding his hand as he died. That stays with you, you know..I was 24 years old. After all this time..I don’t know what to do; it’s getting harder as the memories of him seem to grow more distant and I desperately scramble to remember them.

I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. One person fraying at the edges and desperately trying to keep it together. So please, to the people who tell me to just ‘not stress’ or ask ‘why are you getting so wound up’ tell me what I’m supposed to do? I’m doing all I can and it doesn’t feel enough. So tell me…What should I do? Because honestly I can’t continue this way.

a3

An Open Letter – To My Dad

I wanted to share this, in the hope that anyone else who has lost someone close to them will know they’re not alone or abnormal. Even now 6 years on its not easy, this is my open letter to my dad.

Dear Dad,

It’s still there, the hole you left. People told me I’d get used to it but it still seems to have a flashing neon sign placed above it saying ‘vital piece missing here’ Sometimes I see you when I’m walking down the street and it takes my breath away, and then the faceless stranger turns round and I realise it’s just someone who has your hair or walks the same way. I catch your scent on suited men during my commute to work and I feel the pit of my stomach drop as I remember how my tears caught into the breast of your jacket before it was pulled away and discarded into a black bin bag.

I remember the way everything amplified the day after we said goodbye, like the whole world had stopped breathing, waiting for the moment when it would realise that your foot would never again leave an imprint in the grains of sand on a beach. It waited for you to open your eyes, to make a strong cup of coffee and refuse to throw away your favourite slippers that had holes in the bottom. The book on the fireplace with yellowed pages and glasses resting on top waiting for the owner to pick it up and thumb through the adventures held within. The world waited, and so did I.

I’m still waiting, even after all this time I hope that I will wake up and it would have all been a long and cruel dream, so vivid it felt real. I hope, I sometimes even pray, but my heart weighs heavy with the pain and realisation that it isn’t a dream. A golf ball builds in my throat and warm tears fall from my eyes. I can ask why and say it wasn’t, isn’t, fair but it does no good. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve fallen to my knees and cried for you. Some people would look and ask if you’re worth it, but those who actually had the pleasure of meeting you, wonderful, precious you, they know that yes, you are. You’re worth all the tears I shed and more. Sometimes I say ‘Dad?’ out loud, and for a moment I expect to hear you respond, but you never do. The word sounds foreign on my tongue now as though the word shouldn’t exist without you here to physically represent it, it feels hollow and empty.

I carry you with me everywhere I go, you surround me on a daily basis. You’re the man who opens the door for the lady struggling with bags, the old couple holding hands on the bus, the young child who looks at the world around him in awe. You’re the selflessness I see in my mother and the strength I see in my brother, you’re the love I see in them both. You’re reflected in the safety and contentment I feel in the arms of my husband William, who I know you would have loved. It’s an injustice that you can’t be here to see me, to see us. Or even see the rain fall from the grey sky only to be followed by the sun. People told me I’d learn to live with the pain, that things would get easier but the more distance that grows between now and that night only seems to make the pain grow stronger, more prominent. I no longer remember what your voice sounds like and I wish I could, I used to be able to recall it so vividly but now I find myself in a sea of confusion with furrowed brow as I try to recall the tone, but try as I might I can’t remember and it’s like losing you all over again.

The terrible thing about death is that it’s hard to explain the departed to someone who never met them. I don’t think I do you any justice when I talk to William about you, I get frustrated as I try to recall every detail of just how special you were, and continue to be, to me and those you who knew you. You were a blessing, and even now as I write this I find myself falling into a panic because I can’t just pick up a phone and hear your voice or get on a train and give you a hug. I wonder sometimes if I told you enough when you were alive what you really meant to me, if I let you know how much I loved you and I don’t believe I did, not enough anyway, not as much as you deserved to be told. The truth is, now you’re gone we’re fractured, broken, we all have pieces missing and I continue to try and be the little pot of glue that holds us all together. But sometimes I wake up and you not being here is just so hard to comprehend that getting out of bed seems like the most strenuous of tasks. It’s hard to be the glue when all you want is for someone to fix you too.

We miss you, every second, every minute, hour, day, week, month and year. Time cannot heal us because this is what love is, it’s the pain as well the joy, the lows as well as the highs. We need to take them hand in hand, because that’s the price we must pay for being blessed with someone like you in our life. You were the best dad and I pity the people who never met you, William, Kim, your future grandchildren (who will be told about you every day) and everyone else who has wandered into our lives since you left.

I don’t know what tomorrow has to hold nor do I hold the foresight to see into my future but I do know this, the space you left in my life when you died will never be filled, I will continue to carry you with me every day in my heart and in my mind. The pain won’t get easier because I will never love you any less, only more.

Forever loving you, your little girl.

Pea

x

P.S. I haven’t forgotten your promise, I’ll meet you at the moon.