Some of my earliest memories are of you, my first true love.
The times we spent together when I was a child, you building something or other, me sanding blocks of wood for no purpose but to be with you.
That time you rescued me from a race I wasn’t ready for.
The two of us driving at 6 am on a Sunday morning. I a learner, you my teacher. What great chats we had.
Our shared loved of the English language.
The quiet way you calmed me, when I was an angry teen.
Those nights you came after me to give me a lift, when Mum said not to ask you.
The times I arrived home to find a small bunch of freesia in my bedroom, sometimes for no particular reason.
Your advice so kindly given, the gentleness of your voice, the kindness of your nature, the twinkle in your eye, the fun you brought to the house.
Today Dad as I watched my husband give a rose to each of our three girls I missed you so much. They say you never get over your first true love…I’d have to agree, for Dad I’ve never got over you.
My Dad died nearly thirty years ago of MND or ALS depending on where you live. We hadn’t the longest life together, but we packed it with many great memories before our long difficult goodbye.
photo credit: Peter Werkman (www.peterwerkman.nl) via photopin cc
photo credit: CarbonNYC via photopin cc