My wonderful, amazing Dad did all he possibly could to fight cancer, but sadly, he didn’t win.
On Saturday 4th of April he died. I can’t believe it still. He’s gone. I could look and look but I won’t find him.
The pain of this reality is crushing, it weighs down on my chest. My Dad, my hero, my confidante, my friend, my counsellor, my advisor. I just can’t put into words what he meant to me, what an amazing person he was. There is too much to say.
When I’ve suffered grief in the past Dad was one of few key people who helped me through. I’m an internal processor but need to express what I’m processing at times and then the burden of it lifts a bit. Dad would come alongside me and say, ‘what are you thinking Chick?’ And I’d share it and he’d listen. He would reassure when needed but mostly, he’d listen, and ask questions.
But he’s not here, so I have to get through the loss of him, without him.