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Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Ah well...

One of my late father's favourites.

I miss the very bones of him, you know.

When I was small, he held my hands and I danced on his toes to music from the ancient reel-to-reel tape recorder he played about with - I know I was a heavy lump and I must have weighed heavily upon his tootsies...

I remember dancing for him to "She wears red feathers and a hula-hula skirt" especially!

I think I had a Fifties' kind of upbringing in a northern coal-town, like my parents' had, although I was born early in the Sixties - Flower-power, and all that. The times of love and peace, man, passed me by until I was in my teen years and took to wearing an afghan coat and going about bare-foot in the streets!

Still, I have childhood memories which now seem golden to me. I'm not sure all of the memories were golden, perhaps it's just in sepia and faded polaroid I remember them...

Dad's ashes have sat for just over a year in a corner of my living room, occasionally accusing me - They are double-sheathed, encased in a bronzed urn and then in the rather distinguished royal purple bag they came in with golden threaded handles. He died four, nearly five years ago.

They sit there in silence, in transition, awaiting transportation to a beach of sacred and long-holy spirit some few miles from my home where I will cast them to the earth and the north winds...

It's a beautiful place that attracts crowds of tourists most of the year.

We holidayed on the quasi-island a couple of times, and Dad insisted we scatter my Mother's ashes here almost fifteen years ago.

And that we did... It was a beautiful ceremony, I know.

And I'm sorry I haven't managed it yet!

I mean the task of scattering yours...

Forgive me, Dad. I know you do. I know you know how much I loved you.

I know you know.

How much I love you still.

I miss your unconditional love of me. Your full acceptance of me. Your love for me.

I hope you know, Dad,

...How much your grandson, my son Grizz, reminds me of you.

Each and every day. He has our fingers, particularly the bent middle finger on one hand that we all share.

He is as careful with money as you were.

He has your height, your grace, your wit and humour, and he is still his own soul. I think he has your nose too!

And I know that you would love him. Just as you always did. Perhaps more.

I want to make your ashes rain from the heavens like stars as you did for your beloved Joanie, my Mam.

Tonight, I can see you shaking your head, and smiling at my fecklessness, noting my loss of you in my life.

I know you will understand why I haven't been able to do this thing, not just yet.

I know you, above all, understand me.

You loved your Daddy's Girl...

And I know I will always be this, as I write these words and my well of tears rains down tonight.

For no-one else (perhaps apart from Grizz) has ever meant quite as much to me in this life, before or since I lost your dear soul.

I will love you always... I hope you know.


Gigi said...

Oh bless you. I think your dad knows why you haven't done it yet. You still need to have him near. You'll know when the time is right.

Sending many, many hugs from across the pond.

Mrs Jones said...

Oh, dangit - now I've something in my eye, which started as soon as I read the line 'she wears red feathers....' because that's the song my dad used to sing to me when I was little. Mine's been gone 20 years now, taken by a sudden massive heart attack on holiday several thousand miles away at the unforgiveably early age of 55 (which is only 7 years older than I am now...) I miss him hugely.

Don't worry about hanging on to your dad for a bit longer yet, you obviously still need him around. I wasn't given the option of having anything to do with my dad's ashes (or his funeral, or anything else but that's a whole other bitter story) but, weirdly,speaking as a huge fan of 50s monster movies, I take comfort from the fact that his ashes have (I assume, although he could be on someone's mantelpiece for all I know) been scattered in the same garden of remembrance as Boris Karloff's (Guildford Crematorium, if anyone's interested!)

Scriptor Senex said...

Your Dad knows alright! How could he not know after a posting like that!

Vix said...

What a lovely post. I agree with the others, your Dad obviously knew you best ans is with you still, knowing you need him to stay with you that bit longer.
I'm sure those tears are tears of joy for having had such a wonderful man in your life. xxx

Expat mum said...

Drat - I'd just put me face on and now it's all spoilt!

You do what you need to do pet. He knows.

libby said...

You will scatter him with his Joanie, at the right place at the right time, and feel his love forever.

♥ Braja said...


Moannie said...

I still think that I would rather have your aching loss and the memories that come with your remembering, than the pain that lives within me for the memories I do not have.


Something I wrote earlier...

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