This is not a good time of year for me. Too many memories of dad, reminding me – like I needed it! – how much I still miss him. The best part of 14 years may have passed since he died but sometimes it’s still just as hard as it was in the early days after his death.
Driving down to pick the girls up Saturday morning meant I had the opportunity to leave early and stop at the church for a few quiet minutes. The wind was blowing and there wasn’t a soul around. The peace and quiet was lovely after what felt like so long.
A father’s day card,
Flowers too left at the church.
It’s doubly hard since the girls left with their mum. Things like Father’s day aren’t the same, although I’m sure others may disagree with me on that. I can’t explain it. It’s just something inside.
A bad time of year.
Father’s day: never the same
For a part time dad.