Ah, you sweet-hearted souls! Thanks for all your warm and encouraging words about my first blogoversary. You have no idea how much I delight in your company in this vast expanse we call Blogland. At the moment, so many of you are providing me with comfort and emotional sustenance far beyond anything I could ever have dreamt of. I truly value all comments you leave here. Know that I read, absorb and treasure every single one.
I really want to let you know how I'm faring at the moment. So many of you have emailed me, asking for updates on my darling Dad after this post and this one.
|My handsome Dad holding 12 week old me|
Life feels precarious right now. I never know what the day will bring. It could be Dad's last day on earth or it might just be more of the same.
The scurrying to the hospital for a visit, sometimes with the pixies (who all kiss and cuddle him once his bed has been lowered to the ground so they can clamber onto him, Sammy especially) or without.
The jumping when the phone rings, wondering if it will be 'the call'.
The words a-tumbling through my head as I sort out my thoughts to write his eulogy. The brainstorming, the scribbled words under headings as I try to distil the essence of this man, this gorgeous, huge-hearted man. How do I sum up his 75 years of vibrant, pulsating living in 10 minutes? I don't know the answer yet.
The fleeting lucid moments I share with him before he loses track of his thoughts and becomes befuddled. But doesn't realise he's done so. That is a blessing, I guess.
I hold his hand as often as I can. Such moments are precious. And private. No photos here. He deserves that dignity.
But at least some clarity of thought is emerging for me. Finally.
I am my father's daughter.
I am truly blessed.