I remembered that I too had put up a post with regards to my Father some time ago.
I went back and had a read and thought that I would share it with you. I hope you don't mind?
Dear Journal,
Well I have had another good week and weekend.
My week was really busy and productive, as it is half term and I was off for a week I decided not to waste it and do some of the jobs around the house that I had been putting off for so long.
This started with ordering a Skip so that I could clear out the attic, a job that I have been putting off for far too many years. As I started clearing through the rubbish that I have collected over the years I came across items that I had forgotten that I had kept (like us all no doubt)one being a suit case, I looked at it but didn’t recognise it so I decided that the only way was to open it and see what was inside.
As I popped the locks and opened it I realised straight away what it was, inside was my fathers clothes, his aftershave and some personal items, as I unfolded the clothes I could smell my dad, after all the years I had stored them they had not lost their smell. I found myself sitting crossed legged in the attic holding my dads clothes with the biggest tears running down my face, I haven’t seen my dad for 17 years , he died at the age of 52, so very young and so very missed.
So many memories running through my mind, tears of joy and of sadness. As I sat there holding dads clothes , I opened his wallet and a photo dropped out, to my surprise it was a photo of me on my first day in the army, I had no hair and was so small and skinny . Dad told me so many times how proud of me he was, but I didn’t really take much notice, why would I? I had only joined the army, what was the big deal.
On the day I passed out of my training my dad was with me his chest out, his shoulders back, you would have thought that he was on parade, dad would ask me questions about my travels, where I was in the world, what I was doing, it took me years to realise that dad was living some of his dreams through me. When I had the opportunity I would load dad and his wheel chair into the back of a Land Rover or Lorry and take him out with me, the odd day on the ranges, a recruiting exercise, military tattoo etc I would push dad around showing him the displays let him look at the weapons but it was me who was the proud one, I was so proud to have my dad with me, to be able to share my life with him, proud that he was MY dad.
As I sat there reliving these memories and wiping the tears away I realised how much I have missed him, missed our chats, the laughs that we shared and the times we had together, I remembered the day he passed away. He tried so hard to be brave for my mum and my siblings, I remembered how he winked at me when he was playing the fool and only hours away from death, he told me to tell them to say goodnight and go home, as I went to say goodnight myself he help my hand and told me I had to stay to help my mum through the night.
I saw dad go down hill so fast as they all left, he had put on such a brave face for them, trying to pretend that all was well, but it had been a game he knew he was dying all a long. As I sat there with my mum holding his hand I saw my hero dying in front of me , my big dad with big arms that had held me so tight, that had supported me, guided me, rocked me to sleep was slowly slipping away from me and I could do nothing, I was helpless . Dad died a few hours later and all of a sudden I had been thrust into a new world without my hero, the next few hours were so hard as I had to phone my family , dads family and friends and tell them that dad had left us.
At dads funeral I was given permission to wear my uniform as dad loved to see me in it, my friends who knew dad asked if they could come along to pay their respect and they were also granted permission to wear their uniforms, as we arrived at the church I can honestly say I have never seen so many people at a funeral, their were so many of us that some had to stand outside of the church listening to the service through speakers. As we made our way to the grave, without realising it my mum was given a military escort all the soldiers in their dress uniforms, medals shining on their chests had surrounded her , in their own way they were protecting her .
As I stood their I looked around me, soldiers on parade, mourners standing side by side all there for one reason, to say goodbye and paying their respects for my dad. I was so proud that day, proud of MY DAD, proud for who he was and what he stood for.
And I am still proud of him, he was my dad and my hero.
I continued to clear the rubbish away and the attic looked so much better, I folded dads stuff back up and put them back into the case. I was unable to throw them away, so they are now back up in the attic all packed away, and his memories are all still with me as he is, they are all packed away and I know just where they are should I need them.
We all have memories that are packed away, it’s how we use them that counts.
Thanks for sharing mine, MTFBWY All.
Topic Author
Its a pleasure. 
