On my kitchen table sit this bunch of flowers. They may seem ordinary to you, pretty but nothing special, that’s because you are not me. Freesia have a special meaning to me and will forever be ‘our’ flowers, mine and my dads.
Happy Birthday Dad. Today I cannot pick up the phone and call you, nor will I drive to Dublin to hug you. I am not even close to stand by your grave. But that doesn’t stop me thinking of you.
Yes the years tell me it’s been twenty nine years since I last saw you, but in reality that’s not true. For last night, as I closed my eyes just after midnight, I saw you as I wished you, ‘Happy Birthday.’ And upon waking early this morning, I watched you lean close to kiss mum, as she too whispered birthday wishes to you.
Grief is a lifetime of hurting but it is also an expression of love.
Love you Dad, always.
Happy Birthday. xxxx
photo credit: Martin LaBar (going on hiatus) via photopin cc