When a person dies of cancer it is often referred to as 'losing
the battle'. I doubt my father would appreciate the term. He never lost a
battle in his life and he wouldn't want to start now.
When he was diagnosed in 2007, his chances of surviving 5 years
were not good. He survived 8.
When he was told he had only days to live, he lived weeks.
And now, while the cancer fades into a forgotten nothingness, my
father joins eternity.
My father never lost.
But for all the loved ones he left behind, it still feels like he
left us too soon.
He was a husband, a father, a grandfather and a friend. And more.
He was my teacher.
He taught me to honour and respect. Respect my parents, respect my
family and respect myself. He gave me the respect I needed to be my own man,
follow my own path. He taught me to be strong. To stand up and protect
the people I love. To catch them when they fall.
I once watched as my sister climbed onto our kitchen roof. I
watched her walking around up there without a care in the world. I watched her
make the silly assumption that the plastic roofing above our yard could also
take her weight. I watched as she fell.
And just like that, she was gone.
I ran into the yard as fast as my little legs could take me. And
there he was. My Dad. With my sister in his arms, having caught her in mid air.
It didn't matter that he didn't know she was up there, that he had no reason to
be in the yard or that it wasn't humanly possible to have got there in time to
catch her. All that mattered was that she needed him, so he was there.
He was always there.
He taught me to appreciate the small things. The things best said
without words. He showed me that something as simple, and beautiful, as a hug
or a smile can create a memory to be treasured forever and I can’t thank him enough
for each one that he gave us.
A while ago I got a phone call from my Dad. He said, "Hiya
Dibs, yeah I just found a carrot and I was thinking of you."
"... a carrot?...”
"Yeah, I was walking past the place in Sefton park where you
made the dent and I saw a carrot and I thought about how you used to play there
when you were little..."
I’ll never know what a carrot has to do with
anything at all. But I’ll always know I was forever in his heart and in his
thoughts and he will forever be in mine.
He taught me to love a good book. He showed me worlds where
anything was possible. A Magic Kingdom For Sale – Sold. He taught me to relax
and enjoy life. To grab some Jaffa cakes, marshmallows, a good DVD and a bottle
of coke and just have a good time. He taught me life's too short not to.
Life's too short.
But, in the words of his good friend Gandalf, “the journey doesn't
end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey
rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then
you see it. White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift
sunrise.”
Until our paths cross again, goodbye Dad.
I miss you.
S’agapo.
