If I could live one day again... it would be the last day I saw my Dad.
My Dad lived a long way away from me, and, as mentioned in previous posts, mental illness/fear prevents me from travelling. In February of last year (3 months before he died) my Dad; my always-there-and-if-he-wasn't-there-he-was-getting-there, Dad, came to me. Riddled with Cancer, barely able to stand, and in unimaginable pain, he came to me. He came to say goodbye.
We hugged lots, loved lots, talked as much as he could manage... goodbyes were left unspoken, neither of us able to say the words.
When he left, knowing how hard the moment was for him, I hugged him brave... like a grown up. The child inside was bawling, I didn't let her out.
He released my hold on him, kissed my head, and said "keep smiling babe.", then he turned and walked down the garden path.
When he reached the gate he turned and looked straight at me, he held my gaze for only a moment before turning away again. In that moment I read my life time in his eyes... and I read his breaking heart, his I love you... his goodbye.
I didn't want to be brave anymore. I wanted to run down the path with the child's tears pouring down my face, throw myself into his arms, beg him to stay.
I stayed dry-eye-brave in the doorway until he'd disappeared through the gate. Then went into the toilet, stamped my feet like a child, and cried.
If I could live that day again... I'd run down the path!
Thank you for allowing me to share
God bless you and all those you love
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