Lost in a memory

I was looking at a photo last night that Dad is in. I like to look at photos of him, but it can be the strangest feeling. I have a friend who lost her Dad about 10 years ago and she gets upset that she can’t remember his voice very well anymore – time has made it fade. But for me at this early stage it’s the opposite – I seem to have a heightened sense of what Dad was like – all his little mannerisms, habits, different tones of voice that he used when he was joking around or doing a voice impression, or just when he was being sweet. Everything is so real and clear that I can’t believe it’s been nearly 4 months since I last spent a good amount of time with him.

When I look at a photo these senses become even more intense. Like last night. I was looking at a photo from back in August. Dan and I had just bought quite a large tent and we wanted to test it out, so when we were at Mum and Dad’s one weekend we put it up in the garden. It was good fun, and Dad being his usual self teased us quite a bit, especially as we were planning to try out sleeping in it like a pair of kids! We were pretty proud of our tent and so insisted once it got dark that Mum, Dad and my brother came out and had coffee and cookies in it!! It was quite cold come the evening so I thought it was really sweet that they wrapped up warm and came out, going along with our silly excitement at entertaining in our new tent!!! I really didn’t think Dad would have bothered, but he was so sweet and came out with Mum all wrapped up warm. We had fun, and my brother took some photos of us all sat on deck chairs clutching hot coffee cups to keep us warm.

So I was looking at one of these photos last night, looking at Dad and enjoying the memory. I looked and looked so hard that I could almost feel like I was seeing Dad in the flesh. To look so hard at a photo can make a person seem so real and I start to get lost in the moment of the photo – I can begin to hear him and see his actions and his mannerisms. Looking at that photo I could smell the fresh summer evening air and feel the chill, and Dad was real. It was like stepping into the photo and getting lost back in the memory to the point that it felt like now, and not 5 months ago.

Dad is still so real – I can’t look at a picture of him without a sense of disbelief that he’s gone. I’ve accepted that he as, but the reality of coming to terms with it is a little harder. If I look at a photo for long enough I always get tears. Mainly with happiness from the memories and sadness that I can’t share those times with him again. I really miss him. But I’m glad that he still seems very real, and that I have so many photos of so many happy memories.

End of an old year, beginning of a new

Well, we’ve done Christmas and it was ok – actually it was really nice. It was completely different to other years, mostly because we were all at my brother’s house. I don’t think Mum has spent Christmas at someone else’s house in around 28 years, and last year was the first Christmas I spent away from the home I grew up in, so it was certainly different. I think it’s the time to start new traditions for Christmas, or maybe have no traditions at all. I don’t know how long it will be before we would enjoy Christmas at Mum’s house again because it would be so strange without Dad, so it’s probably best to do away with the traditions.

I thought about Dad a lot, but it was ok and I didn’t dwell on it too much. But I really missed him after the Christmas weekend and have cried quite a lot. Dan and I spent New Year at Mum’s, and although at the start I didn’t find it hard being back at the house, it did feel empty this time. Even things on TV that were on didn’t feel quite right, like all the old sitcoms. As far back as I can remember Dad loved all of these, and I realise now part of the fun of watching them was seeing him chuckle at them, and just the cosy memories of growing up and being at home on dark Saturday evenings while we would all watch them. It feels strange seeing them now. Not that he’d be missing them in heaven (!), but we miss sharing these things with him.

I’ve brought a jumper of Dad’s home with me. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but he always had a certain style of jumper and when I think of him he’s always wearing one of those jumpers that I’ve got stored in my mind. There was something about them – perhaps they just provide me with a comforting image of the man who was my Dad and made me feel safe as a kid, and who had become a Grandad and probably was beginning to look like Grandads should look (whatever that is like - I’m sure we each have our own idea and I have mine but I can’t quite describe it – not old and frail like mine now is, but just Grandad!). So I have chosen the jumper that best fits the picture I have of Dad in my mind. It’s hanging in my wardrobe and I guess I’ll look at it from time to time – hopefully it will make me smile.

And now it’s a new year. I have absolutely no plans for the first time in my life. It’s strange. So who knows – perhaps it will be a very ordinary year or maybe there are lots of exciting things in store. I know it will be a year that we will continue to struggle with the loss of Dad, and I’ve learnt that anything can happen and we should be prepared to accept whatever God’s will is for us, exciting or hard. So, here I am, back at work, back in to the routine, ready for a new year.