What a lovely tribute. I loved hearing about your dad. My dad died eight years ago this June. Like yesterday, like forever ago. After I gave his eulogy as his funeral some of my editors (who had so kindly come to the funeral) said they wish they'd known him. He always knew when I was out and about in London but had lied about where I was going because my dad owned a caff and knew everyone.
Last November I went to Margate with a childhood friend. As I checked in the manager said "You're Q's daughter aren't you?" and went on to tell me he knew my dad. My friend joked that even now, my dad was keeping tabs on me.
I realised not everyone has good dads.
I'm glad you wrote about your dad. Thanks for sharing him.
This is lovely, Lucy. Your Dad would be immensely proud of you, I have no doubt about that. I can also absolutely relate to the before death and "AD" concept and the feeling that with the passing of time, that person becomes more distant, but it also doesn't take away from what you had at the time either and how he has helped to mould you.
You've made me reflect now on whether one day I would also like to write something like this for my Dad, who was very different to yours but just special to me as mine was as yours... Thank you for that.
It never goes away. My lovely dad died 26 years ago - just about exactly this week, though I haven't fetishized his death date. My older child was starting first grade shortly after, I was in the middle of organizing community resistance to a failing medical waste incinerator...life sped forward as it does at the you g-family-early-career time of life. But he was "my person" in our family, much as I love my sister and mother, and his death changed me irrevocably. I was more demanding of my husband - looking for that steady support I had always been able to count on from Daddy. And pushed myself, too, in ways I now see were really to do with making my dad proud by taking on his high standards. In my sixties now I can reflect on and assess these dynamics more- and I'm sure he would be proud of what I've made of my life and how I have faced triumphs and troubles along the way. But the thought of him in a quiet moment ever fails to bring tears for the years I wish we'd had together...
What a lovely tribute. I loved hearing about your dad. My dad died eight years ago this June. Like yesterday, like forever ago. After I gave his eulogy as his funeral some of my editors (who had so kindly come to the funeral) said they wish they'd known him. He always knew when I was out and about in London but had lied about where I was going because my dad owned a caff and knew everyone.
Last November I went to Margate with a childhood friend. As I checked in the manager said "You're Q's daughter aren't you?" and went on to tell me he knew my dad. My friend joked that even now, my dad was keeping tabs on me.
I realised not everyone has good dads.
I'm glad you wrote about your dad. Thanks for sharing him.
Thanks, Annalisa, and it's lovely to read about your dad too. x
This is lovely, Lucy. Your Dad would be immensely proud of you, I have no doubt about that. I can also absolutely relate to the before death and "AD" concept and the feeling that with the passing of time, that person becomes more distant, but it also doesn't take away from what you had at the time either and how he has helped to mould you.
You've made me reflect now on whether one day I would also like to write something like this for my Dad, who was very different to yours but just special to me as mine was as yours... Thank you for that.
Thanks, Laura. I hope you write about your dad too. x
Very touching to read. You wrote from the heart and while I didn’t know him, it is obvious to me that your dad must surely be so proud of you.
Thank you, David.
Love these words and sending love to you ❤️
Thanks Nic xx
It never goes away. My lovely dad died 26 years ago - just about exactly this week, though I haven't fetishized his death date. My older child was starting first grade shortly after, I was in the middle of organizing community resistance to a failing medical waste incinerator...life sped forward as it does at the you g-family-early-career time of life. But he was "my person" in our family, much as I love my sister and mother, and his death changed me irrevocably. I was more demanding of my husband - looking for that steady support I had always been able to count on from Daddy. And pushed myself, too, in ways I now see were really to do with making my dad proud by taking on his high standards. In my sixties now I can reflect on and assess these dynamics more- and I'm sure he would be proud of what I've made of my life and how I have faced triumphs and troubles along the way. But the thought of him in a quiet moment ever fails to bring tears for the years I wish we'd had together...
Thank you, Sarah. This is beautiful.
♥️♥️♥️♥️
Beautiful x
Oh Lucy, he sounded like such a wonderful man. I’m sure he is watching over you with great amazement and pride!
Thank you! I hope so.