Today is the first anniversary of my Dad dying. I can’t believe it’s been a year.
I haven’t slept properly the past few days. I keep waking up every hour or so, like I’m anxious about missing a train or flight or something.
I’ve had such a lonely year without him. I miss arguing about politics with him (he was very left of Labour but not as much as me), I miss geeking out with him, showing him new gadgets I’ve bought. I mean, I’ve always loved my Dad but I didn’t know I’d miss him like this, every day in so many ways. I keep thinking, ‘Oh wait till I send this article to…. “ or “He’s gonna love this new lens…” and then realising I’m forgetting he’s gone.
I have so many happy memories of him carrying me when I was little, of him explaining things to me so, so patiently. He bought me my first book, Asimov’s Mysteries, when I was seven or so. He’s why I’m an SF geek. I had a wonderful father.
I wish I was as good a person as he was. I wish I was as strong and handsome, as fearless and resourceful.
If, like me, you’re lucky enough to have a great Dad, please go and give them a hug or ring them and tell them you love them. Because, one day, like me, you’ll wish you’d done that so much more when you had the chance.