So many decisions, always.
So many consequences.
The blessing and the curse of freedom.
Which way is the way?
This way, that way? Which way?
Any way.
Walk, run, skip, hula hoop if you like.
Just choose and move.
Forwards, sideways, even going backwards is fine, it really is.
Any way is the way.
Any way.
Love Stripes & Trees xxx
(If only our options really looked as beautiful as trees).
This card was bought just over a month ago for my dad. He would’ve loved it.
Today was/is/would’ve been his birthday. What tense are we supposed to use now?!?
We all do grief differently. We all do life differently. We are all different. I think the only rule with grief is that you just need to it in some shape or form.
Initially I thought I’d just need a day off work, then I quickly realised I needed more days, then I wanted more but couldn’t, and now I’m happy to be back working and out the other side. I’ve heard that it does come for visits again, at random moments.
In life kookaburras reminded me of my dad. Bird watching whenever the chance. Being quiet in hides as we tried to spot the elusive kingfishers, one of his favourites. No giggling or you had to wait outside. Fun times.
Most of my memories are now my dad being my dad, not him being my ill dad. His death freed his soul from his ailing body – for him and for me. I’m now remembering him being many different ‘versions’ as one of my sisters would say. The young-kid dad, the stressed teacher dad, the restless retired dad, the relaxed retired dad, and the ill dad. I’m pleased for all the versions that we had, I just would’ve liked a bit more of the dad from 1985 and maybe 2008. But we can’t pick and choose, we are there through it all, that is what family is.
A kookaburra is a version, or a family member of the kingfisher. In any year.
I was going to send this card to his old care home, however I think I’ll keep it forever now.
Love Stripes and (gum)Trees xxx
Living on the opposite side of the world to my family means that photos become real interactions. Photos are conversations, photos are hugs, photos are observations, photos are coffee dates, photos are life.
Decades of photos in order.
Time stamped, location stamped.
Cataloguing time together,
My visits, your visits.
You being grandpa to growing kids,
You being my dad, always teaching, always learning.
Colourful family life.
Beautiful life.
Then as the light started changing my photos became desperate.
Screen shots of our video conversations.
Close ups.
Whiteness.
And now a series of black and whites,
Your childhood.
Then orange tinged photos,
My childhood.
And suddenly there are no more photos.
No new photos.
Of you.
This is what makes me sad.
See you somewhere dad X
Stripes & Trees 