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,
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.