Although I'm still reasonably young, within this great world
of ours, I still recall so much from the years that have now gone. My Mother,
bless her soul, used to tell us stories and even to this day and until the day
I leave this world, I’ll always remember them. My Father, bless his soul as
well, used to get embarrassed despite all of us knowing the type of man that he
was.
A great man, a wise man, who’d lived through so much and
left us with even more. The stories revolved around a man that insisted in
being strong, no matter the circumstance, the difficulties, no matter how many
cracks appeared on his face, within his smile, or deep within his eyes. He was,
will always be, our rock.
Mother used to say that, once he’d proposed with the largest
diamond, his gift that resembled a giant rock, he devoted his life and love to
being just that. Strong, dependable, resilient and more. Even through the late
nights when we were born. Even when my Sister arrived he didn't waver; no towel
being thrown into the ring. He considered these the fun times before the real
world and worries started.
No matter where we went, on a holiday, to the park, or even
just sitting there watching whatever rubbish appeared on the television, he’d
always be holding Mum’s hand. He was this tall hero, the man that I’d always grown
and hoped to become. We did well, from his example, my colleagues in mischief.
As kids we didn't have everything and, in all honesty, we didn't really care.
He gave us what we now, above all, appreciated. His time. His understanding.
His way of teaching us strength as well as a thick ear if we stepped out of
line.
We all grew older, the five of us, supporting and realising
that family, albeit annoying, was what kept things safe. You always knew,
somehow, somewhere, there was someone that would actually drop everything to be
with you. Take care of you. Hold that hand that needed to be held just like Dad
did. Sure, we all knew it, that despite being the strong one Father knew that
our Mother, his wife, was just as strong. We often wondered what would happen
if, heaven forbid, Mother left all of us. Which she did.
He stood tall, like always, on the days after Mother left.
He was wise enough not to show the tears, despite the pain being obvious. He was
our Father, the man that seemingly knew how to handle everything the best way
that he could. We heard his tears, from behind closed doors, but that was okay.
That was what held us together. We knew. We always knew.
The days moved forward and we started to have our own small
bundles of fun. We learnt. We evolved into the very people that we’d hoped we
would become which, thankfully, made Father so proud. “If Mum were here,” he’d
say, “She’d be so proud!” He was right.
She would, as we kept together. We stayed sensible, fought against any troubles
that came our way, realising that we still had the one person within our lives
that would never, ever, let anything happen to us. Even as adults we still needed
his words. We still waited for that wise man to appear. Even if it were to call
us stupid but to only then offer the obvious solution that we’d missed.
Then, that day arrived. We’d all known that it would happen
and, even though despite the hurt and loss, he made us smile by doing something
that none of us could see coming. It’s
been close to one year, 3 months, ten hours, twelve seconds and a few thoughts
since that day he left. To us, we knew a man, and a woman, that knew how
difficult the world could be. They’d decided, even before we arrived, to stay strong,
together. They managed that and, on that final day when we said goodbye, Father
had arranged to put his ashes within a stone. A specially cut stone, re-joined,
then placed onto my Mother’s grave. You see, to him, he wanted to always keep
an eye on all of us, our rock, the man that couldn't be moved, wouldn't be
moved. Even now we can still see him smiling thinking of his last gesture in
this world.
He wasn’t just a man, he wasn’t just our beloved Father, he
was and always will be… our rock.
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