Now normally at this of the day I’ve either written, or am about to write or have the formation of a poem in my head but not tonight. Tonight I want to write about my father. Those of you have followed this blog since it started in December will be aware that in the early part of my life , well will know that my father and I,  we didn’t have the best of relationships due to his alcoholism. It was only until I was 22 that he finally admitted he had a problem and got help for his illness, (because it is an illness) did we have a really close relationship, although despite his illness, from being a small child I had always worshiped (the sober him ). But today I just really really miss him.

He passed away 9 years ago to a rare illness called Guillain–Barré syndrome (GBS) that effects only about one person in 100,000 every year. It is an awful illness , he developed shortly after having cancer surgery, on the day he was due to be discharged from hospital  ,we sat and watch  a physically strong man even though he had suffered cancer succumb to this disease, paralysed him from the neck down .He deteriorated  over a period of eight weeks until his body could take no more as he developed secondary cancer and I had to make that decision no ever should have to take and that was turn his life support system off, we held his hand and watched him pass to I believe a better place.

During those eight weeks we use to sit with him for hours, held his hands and I would hum The Beatles songs to him (his favorite was Blackbird) or we’d read to him, or we put the CD player on and let him listen to the Goon shows and Spike Milligan ( he was a huge fan). It calmed him down because he used to get distressed being on a ventilator, during those eight weeks we became incredible close.

His loss has never left us nor will it ever,  as I am sure anyone reading this who have lost a love one will understand. We talk about him all the time because it keeps him here. The only regret is he never met Jo my partner, he would of adored her and she him, I think they would of got on really well and at least they would have been able to have shared a conversation in their mother tongue – Welsh.

It’s strange how the overwhelming loss of someone hits you at certain times, but saying that not one day goes by that I don’t think of him , it’s just sometimes the thoughts are overwhelming. What’s even stranger is that they make their presence felt at the most strangest times too. Whenever I wish my dad was here you can guarantee I will find a penny in the most strangest places, same when I need guidance from him , low and behold I get up and find a penny . This goes for my mum too she’s found pennies in the strangest places too .It like they are a message from him saying don’t worry I am still around looking over you Today my mum found a penny in her bathroom, just at time she needed it. . I like getting pennies from heaven they give me comfort, never stop sending them dad. Maybe one day I’ll sit down and write that poem about the pennies he has sent, in the mean time we will just keep putting them in the jar.