Feeling sad

victory

Oh I am really pleased it went as well as could be expected, you are right your dad would not have wanted you to be sat around all day, I am so glad you did what you wanted to do, yes it will take many a deep breath but it will get better:)

Robisere

Your post reminded me of the day I lost my own smashing dad, he was 83 and died hard with cancer after a life as a miner. I was 43 at the time and living with both parents after a failed relationship. My mum passed away 7 months later, by which time I had met the lovely lady who will be my wife of 25 years on the 5th of next month.

So it was a year of very mixed emotions, but I sat with my dad every night and listened to his breathing as he fought for life. I bathed him, took him to the toilet and I talked to him night after night, even after the Morphine took hold and he was deep inside himself, I believed that he would hear me and take some comfort. My 2 brothers were much older than me and my big bro, also a miner, had died of the same disease a few months before dad. We had a wonderful father, he was more like a mate to us lads and he stayed young at heart until he died. Being the youngest, he had more time to talk with me after he retired and we grew very close.

I had been a restless soul in my youth: went to sea at 16, joined the Army at 19 for 12 years. Wherever I went in the world, I brought back presents for both parents, but what dad wanted was my stories of the world and its people. He had never been out of the country, but I believe that he saw those places I spoke to him about. Later, when I began visiting Austria and Bavaria (which I love) I brought back a badge to fix on his walking stick, from every place I visited.

Now I am disabled and live some 65 miles from where they are buried, but I get there a few times a year and put flowers down. I always talk to dad and I always feel him there, I get the same feeling of him that I got when we used to walk in the countryside together - a feeling of complete peace. I am never sad at those times, because I know dad would not want me to be. He had the driest, most subtle sense of humour and he was rarely serious about anything.

I hope you can remember your dad like that, think of the good times and the things he did to make you smile.

The last words my dad said to me about the death he knew was coming, was to ask if I would think of him. "Of course dad" I said "How could I forget you?"

"Then I'll still be with thee, lad," he said "as long as you remember me, I'll be there."

Pickle29

What a lovely post and thank you for sharing , and you sound as though your dad was a yorkshire man like mine . Like he said he will always be with thee x

littleredhen

Thank you for sharing your story, my dad and I didn't talk openly about feelings although when my marriage failed I did get upset and talk to my dad about it. He lost his wife, not my mum, 10 years ago and I remember talking to him a month before he died and saying I knew what it was like to feel alone. My dad looked as though he had given up on life and my sister and I were worried about him, persuaded him to go to the doctors. He visited me last July and we had a lovely two days together, toasting my sisters birthday and I took him to see the royal yacht Britannia. He died 6days later of heart disease.

marisco_2

I hope you felt a lot of comfort from spending time remembering your dad in your own way. It sounds like it was a perfect day

JoW123

Robisere wrote: »

Your post reminded me of the day I lost my own smashing dad, he was 83 and died hard with cancer after a life as a miner. I was 43 at the time and living with both parents after a failed relationship. My mum passed away 7 months later, by which time I had met the lovely lady who will be my wife of 25 years on the 5th of next month.

So it was a year of very mixed emotions, but I sat with my dad every night and listened to his breathing as he fought for life. I bathed him, took him to the toilet and I talked to him night after night, even after the Morphine took hold and he was deep inside himself, I believed that he would hear me and take some comfort. My 2 brothers were much older than me and my big bro, also a miner, had died of the same disease a few months before dad. We had a wonderful father, he was more like a mate to us lads and he stayed young at heart until he died. Being the youngest, he had more time to talk with me after he retired and we grew very close.

I had been a restless soul in my youth: went to sea at 16, joined the Army at 19 for 12 years. Wherever I went in the world, I brought back presents for both parents, but what dad wanted was my stories of the world and its people. He had never been out of the country, but I believe that he saw those places I spoke to him about. Later, when I began visiting Austria and Bavaria (which I love) I brought back a badge to fix on his walking stick, from every place I visited.

Now I am disabled and live some 65 miles from where they are buried, but I get there a few times a year and put flowers down. I always talk to dad and I always feel him there, I get the same feeling of him that I got when we used to walk in the countryside together - a feeling of complete peace. I am never sad at those times, because I know dad would not want me to be. He had the driest, most subtle sense of humour and he was rarely serious about anything.

I hope you can remember your dad like that, think of the good times and the things he did to make you smile.

The last words my dad said to me about the death he knew was coming, was to ask if I would think of him. "Of course dad" I said "How could I forget you?"

"Then I'll still be with thee, lad," he said "as long as you remember me, I'll be there."

This post has brought tears to my eyes. Just beautiful.

Chezcat

Just read your thread and am glad you had a good day at the beach. You have to lose a parent to know how painful it is. My dad died on my 47th birthday 7 years ago so birthdays have been bittersweet ever since.

bargainbetty

Another Dad story... my old man died just before Father's Day in 2001. It was three years before I could go shopping in June, because seeing all the cards so close to the anniversary was just too much.

The first year is the worst - first birthday without them, first Christmas, first everything. The first anniversary is a horrible reminder that life goes on, you'll have managed everything without them and that alone just didn't feel right to me.

So I went for a big steak dinner. It was his favourite and mine, and I do it every year. One night, one meal and a beer raised in salute. The rest of the year, I just celebrate the memories and moments of pride at being his daughter as they come to me.

It does get easier with time. It took a long while before that howling gale in my chest was replaced with anything approaching normality, but it does come xx

Robisere

Pickle29 wrote: »

What a lovely post and thank you for sharing , and you sound as though your dad was a yorkshire man like mine . Like he said he will always be with thee x

No, my dad wasn't a Yorkshire man. He and mum came from the Potteries area of Staffordshire, which has a distinct accent of its own. Both parents moved to Nottinghamshire in 1926: dad walked it from Staffordshire to find work at the new pit there, I grew up there. Mum's accent changed over the years but dad stayed true to his roots. Funny thing was, mum always wanted to go back, dad never did because he loved the countryside, taught me so much about it.

Thank you and everyone else for your kind comments.

Parents are either a blessing or a curse, my mum had a mental problem and abused me when I was a child, I was moved to an aunt's until she got the medication to help. That's why I could never love her as I loved dad, he moved me away, said it was the worst thing he ever had to do.