When the child that I was became the child I still am today

There is a divide,
In my mind.

Before Dad and After Dad.

The moments in between are perhaps some of my clearest memories:
The moment I found it was terminal,
The last Christmas when he was able to come home,
The picture of him I took,
The night we got the phone call and my mum went to the hospice to say goodbye.

I do not know myself well with a dad,
I have bits and pieces of memories which I piece together.
I was young,
Only young,
Thats what I know most about myself.

I do not feel grown,
I hope I never do.
Keep learning, keep moving,
Finding things anew.

A child talking to my heavenly father,
Grown talking about my deceased earthly father,
Although I will always have a bit of that child in me.

When a parent dies without seeing their child reach adulthood,
Its almost like you don’t reach adulthood.
There’ll always be that part of me that longs for a grown up father daughter relationship.
I develop it in my mind,
Make believe, as a child.

I am two different children existing in my memory.
I think thats okay.

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