Wednesday 1 May 2013

the last goodbye...

So we got the call. My mum, sister and I. My Dad is on his way out, with just a couple of months to live. Cancer has spread through his body. So it's time to make the trip back to the UK to say goodbye for the last time.

How do I feel? I'm fine. At the moment. My hard shell has not cracked. But I know it must. It will. And I'm dreading that moment. I haven't lost anyone close to me before, so it'll be a new experience. My Dad. My Dad is going to die soon. My Dad who devoted his life to his family. He'd do anything for us. For me. I can't really believe it. What does it feel like when someone has gone...? 

So how do I prepare for this trip? Once I've made sure Mr S has meals in the freezer and instructions have been written covering my weekly routine... house work, looking after my pampered cats, all the kids stuff - doing pony tails, homework, after school activities, packed lunches... I could go on but you get the gist. I'm worried about them. I've never left them for that long before and certainly not to go to the other side of the world. I know I'll get separation anxiety.  I wish they were coming too.  But I'm not on my own. I will be with my family.  My Mum and Dad and brothers and sisters.  It'll be nice to all be together again.  Even with the complication of what my mum's presence will create (refer to my previous Divorce post). Some of my family don't want to see her. But it'll mean the world to my dad, to see her again - the women he lived for and has never gotten over losing.

I'm not looking forward to the trip at all. The long tedious flight (I think I'll get some sleeping pills as I never have been able to sleep on planes), being in a part of the England I'm not familiar with. If I was going to London, I'd feel at home (sort of), I'd know my way around and be able to escape and visit old haunts, reminisce and let London into my veins again. Do some shopping (try on lots of shoes), drink coffee and people watch, catch up with some old friends and just soak in how different London life is to the life I lead now...

But we are going to see my dad, it's not a holiday. 

All I know is that before I leave Dad, after saying (if I can speak) our last goodbye, I hope I will have been able to tell him what a great dad he has been and how very much I love him.

I just hope I can put into words a lifetime of memories and thanks. Maybe I should write it down... God, how do you start...

To Dad. Please know that I love you, even though we are now so far away. Even though I don't call as much as I should and don't stay on the phone very long because we run out of things to say. I will never stop loving you and being your little girl.  I have such wonderful memories of growing up. Of you throwing me in the air and carrying me on your shoulders.  Thank you for building me a stable on a steep slope (against your better judgement) and buying me the horse of my dreams. Thank you not for going mad when I lost interest a year later. Thank you for being my personal taxi service and always picking me up without complaint, no matter how late and always with a kind amused smile. Thank you for all the money you spent indulging my many whims, for supporting me in everything I did. Thank you for buying me my first (and second) car and giving me money to fill it up, so that I could spend my earnings (working at the local pub) on shoes and clothes. Thank you for always being around, for letting me have the cream at the top of the milk bottle for my morning cereal and for making delicious roast potatoes and Christmas sausage rolls. Thank you for just always being you. Solid, reliable, happy Dad. I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better, it's always been about me. But I do love you Dad. I wish you didn't have to go...

That doesn't even being to cover it...

No comments:

Post a Comment