Today, six years ago, I lost my father. Actually, I didn’t lose him. He passed away.
It was also a public holiday like today. We were supposed to go pick him up and let him spend the day at home with us, however, when the nurse called, it wasn’t to tell us we could come fetch him. She didn’t want to speak to my Mom, she asked to speak to me, which I thought was weird. I remember her telling me that he had passed away. I went into complete calm mode. I told her I would be there immediately hoping that she had made a mistake. I broke the news to my Mom who went hysterical. I took charge. I don’t know how I got to the home, but I did. I won’t go into the details too much but… that was the moment life as I knew it changed.
Today, I remember him and everything about him. How I never got to say goodbye… How I used to help him get out of bed and get him into the wheelchair. How my Mom and I had to look after him, how the roles changed from me being looked after by him to me looking after him.
I have recently posted snippets about him here on my blog (see here and here ) but it feels like it happened just yesterday. I was 24 at the time, and so much has happened in between. He would have enjoyed watching the little ones grow up. He would have been proud of my promotion. He would have been able to give my brother advice when his marriage didn’t work out. He would have been there for my Mom. Although that would have been great if he wasn’t ill. At least now, he isn’t suffering like he did, and for that I am thankful.
Anyways, Dad, always know you are loved and never forgotten.