Oh, Mark. I'm so heartbroken reading this. I know that's not your intention but the tears have just come, and I feel every word. I often wonder how long it takes for grief to leave us. I'm not sure it ever can. But if all you've done and become since your dad's passing is all the better then your life is well-lived. As you say, we don't know how long we've got. Thank you for letting us in. Such beautiful evocative writing.
So beautifully written and very sad. I have a difficult relationship with both my parents and live on the other side of the world. It makes me very sad to think about them not being around. Thank you for sharing this. It didn't feel right just to click on the heart and leave it at that.
Thank you Allison, and for taking the time to write. I really feel for you having a tricky relationship with your parents - I hope you are able to find a way of it being better, if that’s something you want. It seems incredible how easy it is for us all to complicate the seemingly simple.
I started writing on what would have been my Mum's 93rd birthday if she hadn't died two months earlier. That was nearly two years ago and I'm still pouring out gratitude every day. Writing has become my meditation. It's a powerful means of acknowledging the richness that others give to our lives. The way that you have chosen to live since your Dad's death exemplifies that perfectly. Thank you, Mark, and I feel that we should also thank your Dad - the source of your epiphany.
Beautifully written, Mark. Poignant and powerful. My Dad died when I was 27. He was 51. I still miss him terribly. Things like calling when the cricket is going well. They will never leave you. The ties that keep us close.
Thank you - a heart felt reading. Wanting to phone your dad is exactly how I often feel. My dad died 60 years ago and there are so many things
I didn’t ask him. My mum passed away 10 years ago. I still catch myself picking up the phone and starting to dial her number to tell her something about my day.
Beautiful writing. And brought back memories for me of being in Winchester - my two babies (now 44 and 43!) were born there - we lived in New Alresford.
Thank you. Such a lovely part of the world isn’t it. I miss the smell of applewood and hoppy ale from the old pubs as the chalky landscapes. I’m due a visit
My dad was forty . I was ten. (Not that it’s in any way a competition…….) - but reading this is a great way to start a Sunday , with my son and his gorgeous girlfriend sleeping downstairs………..
Sweet of you to respond. Though it undoubtedly left its mark, -as it does for all of us, Ive had a fabulous and charmed life in so many ways. Carpeing the hell out of diem every day is the aim!
I'm adding Lesley's really beautiful post, to make it easy for anyone interested to find it
https://substack.com/home/post/p-164536335
Oh, Mark. I'm so heartbroken reading this. I know that's not your intention but the tears have just come, and I feel every word. I often wonder how long it takes for grief to leave us. I'm not sure it ever can. But if all you've done and become since your dad's passing is all the better then your life is well-lived. As you say, we don't know how long we've got. Thank you for letting us in. Such beautiful evocative writing.
Frances
Bloody hell Mark, you shouldn’t do that, tears tarnish my hard image.
I’m sorry VB, but someone has to see that behind that brutish, coarse exterior lies a man with FEELINGS
Tut! I’m going for a fight.
❤️ You write so beautifully.
Thank you Jen, what a lovely thing to say
So beautifully written and very sad. I have a difficult relationship with both my parents and live on the other side of the world. It makes me very sad to think about them not being around. Thank you for sharing this. It didn't feel right just to click on the heart and leave it at that.
Thank you Allison, and for taking the time to write. I really feel for you having a tricky relationship with your parents - I hope you are able to find a way of it being better, if that’s something you want. It seems incredible how easy it is for us all to complicate the seemingly simple.
I started writing on what would have been my Mum's 93rd birthday if she hadn't died two months earlier. That was nearly two years ago and I'm still pouring out gratitude every day. Writing has become my meditation. It's a powerful means of acknowledging the richness that others give to our lives. The way that you have chosen to live since your Dad's death exemplifies that perfectly. Thank you, Mark, and I feel that we should also thank your Dad - the source of your epiphany.
I’m so glad you found writing Catherine - it gives much more than we might even hope, in my experience. Thank you for your words
Beautifully written, Mark. Poignant and powerful. My Dad died when I was 27. He was 51. I still miss him terribly. Things like calling when the cricket is going well. They will never leave you. The ties that keep us close.
I’m sorry for your loss Rosy, and you are so right about the ties
Thanks, Mark and for subscribing to Rosy’s Ramblings. I will have to up my game!
There is only so much time…….takes a lifetime sometimes to find out . This was a brilliant read.
Thank you, and yes, that is so true - it’s utterly unbelievable when you feel like you have all the time in the world
Thank you - a heart felt reading. Wanting to phone your dad is exactly how I often feel. My dad died 60 years ago and there are so many things
I didn’t ask him. My mum passed away 10 years ago. I still catch myself picking up the phone and starting to dial her number to tell her something about my day.
Thank you Jenny. Funny how we still reach for that phone
Beautiful writing. And brought back memories for me of being in Winchester - my two babies (now 44 and 43!) were born there - we lived in New Alresford.
Thank you. Such a lovely part of the world isn’t it. I miss the smell of applewood and hoppy ale from the old pubs as the chalky landscapes. I’m due a visit
Lovely, moving writing Mark.
And a gratin without cheese - hooray! Thank you.
Thank you Diana. I think I prefer them without cheese!
What a wonderful and deeply moving story.
Thank you Amela
That is a wonderful piece, Mark, Thankyou.
Thank you Jan
Oh Mark. Hugs 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
Thank you Lucy
It's indeed beautiful and thoughtful.
Thank you
Only 64. That’s shitty. My Papa was 59, so I know your pain. You made me think of him, so that was good.
My dad was forty . I was ten. (Not that it’s in any way a competition…….) - but reading this is a great way to start a Sunday , with my son and his gorgeous girlfriend sleeping downstairs………..
Oh Gillian, 40 is just beyond unfair - I’m very sorry. I hope the rest of your Sunday is restful
Sweet of you to respond. Though it undoubtedly left its mark, -as it does for all of us, Ive had a fabulous and charmed life in so many ways. Carpeing the hell out of diem every day is the aim!
Thank you Joanna. It’s not bad when they come to visit is it