Father’s Day

Today I got 2 cards, one totally random, covered in Despicable Me minions, apparently representing me, Dani, Lily and Amber herself.
She’d written ‘Happy Birthday Daddy, crossed out Birthday and squeezed in ‘Farther’, crossed that out, and put in ‘father’…

The other was an altogether more classy affair, A4 sized and perfectly geometric in every way.

Both cards exuded love for a chap that this time last year lay in a coma, looking very unlikely to pull through from the darkness of virtual death, to the light from a Toulon hospital window.

That same chap has gone from not wanting to live to laughing with his beautiful daughters and wife this special morning, and every morning from here on, celebrating life itself.
Not the life he had before, but one worth living, one even more precious than before, savoured more acutely for having nearly lost it altogether.
To think that this day, Father’s Day was so nearly going to be for ever after the anniversary of my death, that every year my daughters, rather than make and send me cards, would cry with their mum… Well it’s too awful to contemplate.

There are so many people I don’t think I’ve thanked properly for all their contributions over this last year.
One that’s just sprung to mind is Steve Barrett for coming round and changing lightbulbs and fixing a leak on our flat roof, months ago, two things impossible for me now.

But you know, climbing out the first floor rear window to investigate a leak was never that much fun anyway…

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