It’s a year to the day since my Dad died. It hardly feels like any time at all since we were making regular trips to and from Crosshouse Hospital to sit with him – and giving him updates on what was going on at the World Cup in Germany. One thing I remember was watching the end of the Italy-Germany World Cup semi final match. I had gone from being with Dad to the family room located outside the Intensive Care Unit and switched on the TV to see that the game was still going on. Then, as some Italian player scored a wondergoal in the last few minutes that knocked Germany out of the World Cup, I forgot where I was for a moment and reacted verbally with a shout of “F***!” as the ball hit the back of the net. I suddenly remembered where I was and had a quick look out in the corridor to see if anyone had heard me. There was nobody about – to this day, I still don’t know if I was heard! I think I got away with it – I hope!
Dad, we miss you everyday as much as we did a year ago. Every time I hear som
eone whistling in the street, I’m still looking around for you! I suppose having heard it for 30-odd years, it becomes an automatic reaction. Whatever you’re up to, Dad, take care.
A family picture from a few years ago – Mum, me, Mhairi and Dad
To everyone else, remember to tell those that you care about EXACTLY how you feel about them before it’s too late.
The Cardman 🙁