It’s been a tough week. My dad is having major surgery tomorrow. He needs a triple heart bypass. He’ll be in theatre for five to six hours. It’s going to be terrible waiting to hear how it’s gone.
He’s been so amazing. Laughing, smiling, reassuring us he’s not going anywhere. He’s truly an example to us all.
I am so grateful we’ve had this time together. I have visited him in hospital every day he’s felt up to it. We’ve chatted about old times. I have been able to give him a hug and tell him how much I love him. It was his 70th birthday on Friday: my daughter and I took him a cake and sang to him. I wrote a long message in his card, telling him how grateful I am for his love, support and care and how much he means to me and mine.
I have managed to keep it together, mostly. But in my therapy session on Friday I couldn’t stop the tears. I sobbed uncontrollably. At the end of the session, my counsellor said, your dad clearly means the world to you, you’ve never displayed such emotion when discussing your ex.
She’s right. He does. He’s the only person who I have never ever doubted loved me (my mum left when I was four and didn’t come back until I was nine so for a time I didn’t have the same surety with her). He is the person I turn to when I am in trouble or need support and reassurance.
I can’t image life without him.
I don’t want to image life without him.
This happening has made me reassess things. It’s the first court hearing for the divorce in a few weeks – I don’t give a fuck. I have to go over ex’s form e and provide comments – I don’t want to waste my time and energy. I start my new job a week today – I am feeling ambivalent. All these things would have stressed me out. Made me worry. But none of them matter. All of them pale into insignificance in comparison to what’s happening with my dear dad.
Health, happiness, love, laughter. The things money can’t buy. That’s what’s important.