Yesterday I lost my dad.
Here he is looking handsome on his wedding day in 1967.
I loved my Dad, we didn’t always see eye to eye about things and he wasn’t perfect, who is?, but always at the end of everything he was my dad.
I didn’t always agree with some of his life choices, I’m sure he sometimes felt the same about me but when it was important he was there, like finding himself a single parent in 1982 after my nan passed away and not being able to cook he spent a year teaching himself how to cook, this would entail him perfecting a recipe from a Cook book over a couple of months until we were sick of it, I remember the lasagne phase very well.
He also brought me up through those horrible teenage years, (I really was horrible) hard work for a couple let alone a single man.
I am so glad he got to see me settled and spend time with his grandson, especially listening to Pete’s Stampy Cat jokes for hours.
I cannot begin to say how much I’ll miss him but relieved he is now free from the illness that has blighted the last few years.
Here he is celebrating Boxing Day with us last year, the last time I saw him outside of a hospital.
I will be eternally grateful to the team on the ICU at Charing Cross who not only treated my dad with great care and respect but also looked after us all as we went through the process of allowing my Dad a peaceful and dignified death.