One year ago today, I saw my Dad for the last time before he died.
The day before, the day of my wedding, he’d walked me down the aisle:
given a brilliantly funny and touching speech:
and serenaded me on the dance floor to ‘Always on my Mind’ by Willie Nelson:
He left before the night was over, calling a cab to take him to his hotel.
The following day I woke up early, despite not getting to bed until about 2am – I think the adrenaline was still flowing. The girls and I breakfasted and dressed, leaving my new husband sleeping off the evenings antics from the depths of the duvet. Various friends and relatives popped in throughout the morning to say goodbye as they began their long journeys home. While my Mum and Ray were here to look after the girls, I quietly slipped out to pick Dad up from his hotel and take him back to the wedding venue so he could collect this car – a journey across town that took about 40 minutes in total.
On the way we chatted about all sorts of things, and every so often he’d ask me (again) whether his speech had been ok. Dad has always been a wonderful storyteller, and he loved to make people laugh – he absolutely achieved both of those things in his speech and I told him so. As we pulled into the car park we sat for a couple of minutes in silence, each of us comfortably in our own thoughts. Then we said our goodbyes and parted ways – Dad making his way home to Marlborough and me heading back to my husband and girls.
Of course we spoke on the phone regularly between then and when he died at the beginning of February this year. I loved every single second of those conversations, whether they lasted for 2 minutes or (on one occasion) 2 hours. But it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.
In the year leading up to my wedding, I’d only seen Dad once – he came to visit for the day. Prior to that we hadn’t seen each other for four years. We made the mistake of allowing the busy-ness of life, our less than conventional lifestyles and the stories we told ourselves about our relationship get in the way.
I’m writing this post as a reminder to myself and to all of you NOT to let that happen. It can be so easy to just move mindlessly from day to day – working, parenting, studying, sleeping etc… and then before we know it a whole week has passed. And then a month. And then half a year. I was just discussing with a client this morning about how neither of us could believe that we are already halfway through June. Before you know it a year or more has disappeared in the blink of an eye.
As this weekend was our one-year wedding anniversary, Neil and I wanted to do something to celebrate. My best friend and her husband, who live in Southampton, offered us the most wonderful wedding gift of coming to look after our girls for us so we could enjoy 24 hours as just the two of us. We used it as an opportunity to explore somewhere new, so we headed to Stratford Upon Avon, where we stayed overnight in a lovely hotel that was exactly what we wanted it to be.
I knew that it wasn’t going to be the easiest time emotionally – the hurt at losing Dad is still very raw and while most days I’m pretty much ok, my memories of our wedding will always be intrinsically connected to the last time I saw Dad alive. However, I was determined to enjoy our time together, and I did just that – we ate good food, explored the town, visited Stratford Butterfly Farm and spent time at the various Shakespearean places of interest.
But most important of all wasn’t the things we saw or the places we went to. It was being able to spend real quality time together – talking, laughing, just being us again. We didn’t talk about the girls once, and we tried to keep work out of the picture as much as possible. I completely unplugged (no emails, Facebook or Instagram for the whole weekend) and I properly relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. My shoulders moved down, my stomach unclenched and my brain wasn’t racing away at a million miles an hour. I slowed down, let go of a lot of the ‘rules’ that I tell myself are important which actually really aren’t, and breathed. As we were talking over dinner, we realised that actually, it had been years since we’d relaxed. The last time Neil and I had a night away from our girls was almost six years ago, and even then we weren’t totally by ourselves as I was pregnant with our youngest daughter.
I have made a promise to myself to try and do it more often – not necessarily for a whole weekend, or even a date night (which we manage about twice a year). More just in our day to day. Switching off. Being present. Talking instead of distracting. Not letting life and work and kids and stress get in the way of the most important thing of all – connection.
I’m immensely grateful that Dad and I began to mend our broken relationship in the two years leading up to his death. The few times we saw each other and the numerous times we spoke on the phone will always have a very special place in my heart – we started to connect, as adults, in a way we never had before. He reached out to me first and if he hadn’t I don’t know whether we would have got to where we were.
I’m spending today quietly reflecting on Dad – everything he was (and wasn’t), and how our relationship helped to shape the me I am today. I feel incredibly sad that he’s not here and also somehow ever-so-slightly more at peace with that fact. He may not be here in body any more but I definitely felt his presence in Stratford – little things like the miniature pots of Tiptree jams on the table at breakfast in the hotel (Dad’s favourite), to a song from Phantom of the Opera playing in the little café where we ate our ice creams (Dad introduced me to Phantom at a young age and it was our ‘thing’ – we bonded over it and I’ve loved it ever since).
I’ve learnt how important it is to not let time slip away, because you never know how much of it you have left. Stop wasting time. Stop saying “no” to stuff (unless it’s stuff that you really don’t want to do, or stuff that will get in the way of you doing what you want to do!). Say yes to connecting with people that you love on a deeper level. Say yes to exploring new places. Say yes to having fun. Say yes to the little things as well as the big things.
And so on that note I’m off to run all the errands I need to run before I pick the girls up from school and we spend a few hours making memories together before bedtime. We bought them some giant bubble wands from our weekend trip and they are desperate to play with them in the garden when they get home. What can I say to that other than “Yes!”?
If this post has resonated with you in some way, or given you an insight into something you hadn’t been aware of before, please do feel free to share this blog and/or get in touch – I’d love to hear your thoughts.
You can leave a comment below and you can contact me directly at chloe@openmindhypnotherapy.co.uk
Thank you for reading 🙂
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Email: chloe@openmindhypnotherapy.co.uk
Very reflective, beautifully written and happy memories.