Miss you, Dad.

I remember this picture being taken…

That’s me on the left. Dad had taken us on a trip to Blackpool during the summer holidays. He bought me a plastic sword from one of the shops on the beach front and made me feel safe on the ghost train when a glow in the dark skeleton decided to say hello.

Sometimes when I first wake up in the morning I think to myself - I’ll give Dad a call today. And then, a split second later, my caffeine deprived brain boots up my long term memory - and I remember that he’s not here anymore.

My Dad passed away a few years ago now but I remember the feeling of shock when it happened. He’d been ill for a while but nothing can prepare you for that day when you lose them. My family were devastated and we all did our best to support each other but the brain fog is so thick when you’re processing everything that even normal everyday tasks are difficult.

And it’s in that shell-shocked, grief-stricken state that most families have to plan a funeral. A maze of stress and guesswork heaped on to the shoulders of someone that is already struggling. On top of that the standard for things like funeral stationery is incredibly low, I ended up with an order of service that didn’t do my Dad justice.