However, life goes on, a little emptier for our loss, but, fuller for having known him.
He is now laid to rest overlooking the golf course he helped to build, somewhere he could perform New Year's Eve concerts, somewhere he shared too many great days and nights out with his wife, my mum, somewhere he would have loved.
I now, suprisingly quickly, remember the funny, hard working man he was.
In the weeks following his death I had some bizarre conversations and one today brought this home. We were discussing car boot sales at work. I was asked if I had a used urn? heartless???? Never. The guy who asked is very caring but knew I had coped with death through laughter in the face of adversity. I had shared the scattering of the ashes tale, and given good advice in check the wind direction, don't step on them etc etc.
But he knew I didn't know what to do with the recyclable container my dad had been delivered In. So he made light of it and I really appreciate that. No.... woe is me, it happened, it was shite, but it happened.
For three weeks the ashes rested in my porch, we were getting used to saying hello and goodbye as we came and went. Now we just say hello when passing the golf club.
I am paranoid about my mum developing dementia, but every check we have is fine.
I also have two colleagues /friends with recently diagnosed parents and hope I can help them cope. It's not your fault!.... the thought I have when I see them upset, easy for me as a survivor of parent with dementia, but dreadful and unbelievable at first diagnosis.
But now we remember my dad as the fantastic guy he was. My dad!
