I rode many waves of emotion as the memories of that day came flooding back. It was surreal. In the true sense of the word. Almost hyper-real. The powers of the mind never cease to amaze me.
Suddenly I was having flashbacks to my last moments with him. The kiss. The hug. The whisper in his ear. The passing. And then the anguish unleashed.
Tears flowed. The pixies held me tight.
And then gradually, something shifted deep inside me.
I realised that instead of thinking of 17 August as Dad's 'death day', I could think of it as his 'life day'.
With a mental flick of a switch, I had the power to change the day from one to dread to one to cherish. I know he'd want me to do that.
Emboldened, I looked at the slideshow of his life my brother made to show at his wake. For the first time. I hadn't had the courage to do so until yesterday.
And it made me smile through the salty tears trickling down my face. I saw a little baby grow through childhood and adolescence into manhood. Into matrimony. And fatherhood, his crowning achievement, at least to this daughter.
It was a blessing.
Then I spied something which my treasured friend Felicity made for me a year ago. Here it is.
Its sentiment is so apt. And hopeful.
That little feather she collected for me from a Noosa beach is so precious to me now.I *get* what William Blake is saying. I don't think I could a year ago.
Felicity, I can't thank you enough for gifting me that grace. And peace. I'm a lucky girl to call you my friend.
So, sweet Planetarians, there's no probing question to end this post. I'd just like to thank all of you who sent me Facebook messages yesterday - I truly appreciate your abiding compassion. And I hope some of you may also find some peace in reading Blake's powerful poem.
