Today I’m allowed to feel like shit. I can scream and cry and laugh all at once. And so can he.
Last week when the 12 y o came home from his wonderweek of being spoilt, loved and generally worshipped in our homeland he was different. The usual casualness was gone. His carefree nonchalance normally visible when he gets off the plane was replaced with a teary-eyed hug. ‘I miss him. I really do,’ he choked through tears. ‘I wish I could have known him.’
He’d spent the week immersed in memories and laddish stories of his dad without any filter. Felt like he was there. He was finally getting to know the man he never will.
It’s okay to be angry, sad and helpless whenever you feel it, I tell him. All those feelings will always be there for the rest of your life. But we are so lucky your daddy found us the perfect guy to fill his shoes, take care of his wife and his boy exactly like he would have. It isn’t fair his only memories are the ones garnered by me and all his friends and family, nothing of his own to laugh over and reminisce.
Tomorrow he’ll crest the hill sitting in the back of a car with one his favourite drivers, the spirit of his daddy proudly watching on. It will be another step closer to the man he so wishes he did…but never got the chance to know.