Your huge warm hands braided my hair, fixed my bike, offered me freshly picked strawberries and made me thousands of breakfasts. You made these hands work hard all your life. These hands never gave up in a struggle, you were stubborn, but had a kind and generous heart. You were a very present father, always there for us. At the same time you gave us freedom to do whatever we wanted to do. You were so handsome and I was always very proud of you. You had the best sense of humor and I loved to hear you laugh. Your hip got damaged in 1978 and after that you endured pain and suffering in ways that I can never quite understand. I think that made you love and appreciate your life even more than before. I’m relieved that you don’t have to be in pain and suffer anymore. I was watching over you with my brother on your last night. I sat by your side, holding your hand and cherished the warmth from these hands for as long I could, before you peacefully drew your last breath in the early morning hours.
You showed me life, you showed me death and I’ll be eternally grateful for your unconditional love.
Love and kisses.
2 thoughts on “*My*Dearest*Father*”
I’m so sorry, hon, but what a lovely tribute. Love.
Thank you for your kind words and compassion, Ginevra. It means a lot these days. Hugs and kisses