Dad,
I haven't written to you since I was a little girl. You remember I used to write you notes and leave them places. Well this is a letter from me that I know you will never see, however it is a letter I need to write, right now as you lie in hospital feeling scared and lonely.
As a little girl I grew up knowing my Dad was the strongest, most amazing Dad in the world. You could swing my on your bicep, and tickle me with the other hand! You carried me when my legs were tired and you always felt so good when I snuggled up on the chair to watch westerns with you on rainy days.
I learned very early on in life that nice things had to be paid for and Dad, thankyou for working 12 hours a day 7 days a week when I am sure you would have liked to have spent more time fishing or growing things, or maybe even just sitting reading a book! Your hard work has rubbed off on me - well a bit! I know what it feels like to support your family and to put yourself through all sorts of hardships to make sure the family were getting the best things in life... you couldn't however buy my love for you, or your love for me... this is priceless now as it was then. You are loved Dad - and I know you know this!
I remember waking up early one morning to find 50 dead cod in the bath, remember you came back late from a fishing trip and hadn't got anywhere to put them! I also remember Mum gutting them all and putting into paper for me to run around the street giving them away to neighbours, Dad never really ate fish, even the freshest cod he caught!
The day my swing arrived overnight, that puzzled me somewhat... I went to bed and the next morning was a lovely [if recycled] swing set in the ground waiting to be played on - you did make things happen like no other Dad could! Mending things, creating things and most importantly making sense of Mum's dressmaking patterns so the fabric prints matched up... a good eye for detail Dad!
I remember the night Mum got drunk at New Year and you left her with a blanket on the floor... she wasn't happy next morning. You made sure I was safely tucked up in bed and I suppose that meant you loved me lots! You never got drunk did you Dad? I hardly ever saw you drink alchol, maybe a glass or two - certainly never drunk1 Again thanks for this, I learned that good men, strong men, don't need props in everyday life... they are just as they are come what may.
You did smoke though, I suppose your only vice. How I wish I knew what I know now, then. I would have done so much more to make you stop and to let you know that each one would damage your lungs. I would have stamped my feet and screamed the place down everytime you touched one... maybe I could have faked an allergy to them... Oh Dad, I wish we could make the cigarettes go away and make your lungs healthy right now.
So when I started to mess up, divorce and moving away - it was you that always stayed there for me. Really never judged me and never had a hard word for me. Just loving me through every mistake I made and every tear I shed along the way. You have no idea how much that meant when Mum and other family members gave me a hard time... just quietly knowing you would watch my back come what may.
I made good and you said you like my current hubby... he makes me happy and this makes you happy. You are a tough act to live up to - there is only one Dad like you and any man has to be very special to come anywhere near. I have a contender though as you know, Matt is so strong and warm, kind hearted and in a hug from him I sense the same as I do with you Dad... that family bond that is unbreakable, lifelong a forever thing. It is such a shame that like you Matt has his health issues and you both having cancer makes me wonder why, two wonderful men in my life one my Dad, one my son... why, there must be a reason , just don't know what it is at the moment!
So when I think of you there in the hospital, with your oxygen mask on, finding breathing hard to do, fighting the pneumonia, handling the TIA's and your damned lung cancer, I change the picture, to the Dad that took me fishing at the pond and let me play with the maggots, letting the pretty ones escape instead of being bait! To the Dad that made hot chocolate on cold days after school... because this is what you mean to me. Warmth and love and all things good... I send you my strength and my love and my hopes that you can find the energy to keep going and to say that this time, you will have your time with us all a little longer. This time Dad , I want you to be selfish and put all your energy into getting better and beating the bugs that threaten you, however I know that should this be too much to ask of you, I want you to know I understand. It isn't quitting, it is realising that sometimes stuff happens you can't change, no matter how much you want it to...
I love you Dad, when I was little, as I grew up and today, I have the space in my heart for your love wherever you are... Wishing a hot chocolate and a box of maggots could make my world complete once more...
Julia xx
