The day the most important and influential man in my life passed away.
As a child he was my idol. I was Daddys little girl. He gave me everything I asked for.
I don't have many memories from my childhood. But the few I remember will always remain with me. I remember him teaching me how to ride a bike, how to tell the time, the weekends away in caravans and at the seaside.
Even though many people, including myself, will say he wasn't the best father in the world; he made me who I am today. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be as strong as I am.
The image burned in to my memories, seeing him lying on a wooden block covered up to his neck in a white sheet. My brother opened the door and walked in. Deep breath and I followed. Nothing in the world can prepare you for that moment. I stepped forward into the room, about 2 footsteps.. My body refused to move further. I literally dropped on to a sofa behind me. I could hardly bring myself to look at him. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. The last time I had seen him he was alive, in hospital, but alive and talking. I sat crying so much looking up at him waiting for him to sit up and start talking. None of it seemed real. How someone can be there one day and gone the next is crazy.
The next time I saw him, lying in a coffin. He was all suited up, looked so nice. Even though all of his family were there I felt so lonely. His daughter but an outcast.
Me and my father had a unusual relationship. As I said above I was daddys little girl, but after my parents got divorced things changed. We drifted and lost contact. Years went by without so much as a hello. I know we both wanted to contact each other but I guess several things stopped us.
There's so much more I could write. People say he's looking down etc but how do they know. If he is then I hope he can see and hear my thoughts etc. No one can explain the pain of seeing the people who give u life losing their life.
