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Tonight I write about my father.

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.

pennies

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At the back of your mind

mindI am the memory at the back of your mind

that comes to you when you sleep

I am the memory at the back of your mind

when your heart misses me and you weep

I am the memory at the back of your mind

that makes you smile when your senses

recall happier times

I am the memory at the back of your mind

that tells you, you are not alone

that  I will still keep you safe

I am the memory at the back of your mind

that remind’s you , that although I’m not there

I will always still love you.

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.

All rights reserved

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Wearing Black

Just because I don’t wear blackblack

doesn’t mean I do not mourn

Just because tears do not fall from eyes

doesn’t mean I haven’t cried a thousand times inside

Just because I don’t mention his name everyday

doesn’t mean I forgotten his memory it is present with me everyday

Missing him is a pain I have to endure

there is no cure

This is my normality now

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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The White Box

buddha

I didn’t throw your memory away

I keep  it in my head and within my heart

I kept some thing’s and tidily put them away

in a white box with Buddha sitting on the top

Things you held, things you wore and things that still have your smell are in

the white box with Buddha sitting on the top

Silly really I kept these  things in case you came back

But I have now come to realise this will never be the case

You will never hold those things or wear those clothes that I kept for you

in the white box with Buddha sitting on the top.

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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Old friends chatting…

couple cloud sitting( for David 06/03/1962- 08/02/2002 – forever loved and always missed)

 

Its been 19 months since we were last in tune

We sat and skirted around varied  subjects

The usual chatter of old friends on a sunny afternoon

Then in an instant the conversations ceased

Like the stopping of the hands on the old timepiece

No more conversations were to be shared

All that was left was my despair

As I write this I know you are looking over my shoulder

And I feel the air become a little colder

I wished I had spoken of how much you meant

Instead of discussing the amount of Euro’s you had spent

So here now I will write of how beautiful and loved you are

And how not one day goes by without a

thought for you

And how life without you is just too bizarre

I wipe away the tears

As I think of all those lost years

of how when we were young we’d dreamed

of sharing our life

And of how one day I would become your wife

But now the weekend arrives and I bring you flowers

Again my tears begin to overpower

The only way I seem to get by and cope

Is to pray and live in hope

That one day we will again be in tune

And will be forever together sitting

on a cloud watching old friends

chatting on  sunny afternoons

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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