14 June 2011

The Gallery: Dads



So, Sunday is Father's Day.

I have a lot to remember. Presents and cards for Andy from the children and the same for Andy's father. Quite why my father-in-law is my responsibility, I'm not sure. Luckily he is a wonderful man and it is my pleasure to buy him some chocolates and a B&Q voucher now...  and again on his birthday.. and again at Christmas.

Three and two year olds are great though, they can't resist telling their dad that they've made cards and bought him chocolates. "They were on offer, Daddy" piped up Cash. Yeah, thanks, kid.

At this time of year my thoughts turn naturally to my late father. This is the fifth year now that I haven't had to buy him a box of Liquorice Allsorts and an amusing card. I only started making cards after he died, he had no idea I was even vaguely artistic. My children will never make him a card, like they have done for their other Grandad. They aren't even aware that they should have a Grandpa too. They know one fact about my dad and that is how he had to break the bathroom door down when I had locked myself in, aged six, and couldn't get out. I couldn't resist telling Presley and Cash this cautionary tale, as they played with the lock on the downstairs loo. Otherwise, I don't really talk about him. I will, when the boys are older, but right now they're too small to understand death. I hope it's a while before they have to.

I really really really miss my dad. I miss the twinkle in his eye, his generosity when it came to sharing his ice cream and his plain talking. I even miss him telling me - in great detail - about every feature on his new camera, while I sneakily read the paper. I worry that, as the years go by, my memories of him are fading. They're slipping away, like the remnants of dreams when you wake. I remember us both laughing until we cried but I can't remember what started it each time. I'm desperately trying to hang on to how it felt to share those moments of utter joy with my old man. Writing about it helps.


For more information on The Gallery, check out the fabulous Sticky Fingers. I must just take this opportunity to say a huge thank you to Tara and to Copperdot for my competition prize that arrived today. I won't say any more as I don't want to spoil the surprise on Sunday. Fingers crossed Andy hasn't read this far!



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12 comments:

  1. Hugs Sandy, you do your Dad proud I am sure.

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  2. Beautiful writing, the camera bit made me smile! My thoughts go out to you. My daughter is a bit older, she's 4 and since her Gran died has started to ask about both my mum's death and my husband's father who she never met. I guess what I am offering is that in my experience talking about death with small children seems much harder than it actually is. My husband has told her some stories and I think it has helped him to feel his Dad is acknowledged again. I have found talking about my mum's death with her hugely healing. 2 and 3 is young, but maybe in a year or two you can make his memories part of family legend? Sorry to go on, you got me thinking x

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  3. A lovely and yet heartbreaking post in one x

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  4. Lovely post! My Dad died before the Pickle was born and I try to keep his memory alive too - ironically I think that helped her when last year my FiL died to.
    Thnnk goodness for amazing Dads!

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  5. You know the twinkle in the eye is hereditary you know!

    A beautiful post full of warm and love. x

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  6. Lovely post and although I talk of my lovely Dad who I am lucky to have me over at http://celebratingmums.wordpress.com I have lost my Mum and know what you mean about memories fading that bit and how sad that is.

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  7. A beautiful piece Sandy, brought a tear to my eye. I'm going to make a fuss of my "pops" on Sunday, makes me appreciate how lucky I am to have such a wonderful father. x

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  8. this is a lovely post, i was welling up.

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  9. Wow.. AMAZING!!!!
    This sure is a beautiful peace, it literally made me cry.. He must be so proud of you...
    P.S: do check out: http://www.mobilemediacity.com/portfolio

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  10. What a lovely post, I can hear you speaking in your soft voice when I read your blog and it's simply lovely. So heart warming.
    Your memories, especially the feelings about special little occasions will stay forever clear as ever don't worry xxxx

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  11. You know I feel the same, but my oys know so much about Grandpa Bob. I feel that I am keeping him alive my telling them all about him

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