I’m not going to blog today.
Yesterday we found Dad dead in his bed. We didn’t really realise how sick he’d been. Neither did he. He’d only been living here in Tassie for a few months, after 25 years on the other side of the country.
I miss him already, and feel the guilt for all the times I didn’t call, or didn’t make more effort. I didn’t know our time was nearly up.
This is an old pic, taken the last time he came down on holiday, back when he had energy, and loved to play games. I wish he’d moved back then.
I wish he didn’t have to go.
I pray he’s free now, and he’s got his neck straight. It always bothered him, that.
Miss you Dad. Love you.