It was the anniversary of John's death on March 9th.
Every time I've wanted to write something, it's been like a big, fat roadsign, blocking the road. Warning - rocky road ahead.
I really want to talk about my Dad, but I want to talk about the rounded person that he was. About how some of his sonic boom like personality and influence over us wasn't necessarily all positive. for some reason, the things about him that used to be frustrating seem to pop in to my mind at the moment, almost as if to try and get in the way of an otherwise thick, gooey and out of my depth sadness.
I MISS MY FUCKING DAD.
I'm angry with him for not being here.
...and life has been going on in the meantime, of course. The two young lives we, Mackay and I, have been licenced to safeguard and nurture. That's kind of at base level what this blog is all about (no, really? - reels in shock).
So I'm not going to try and mark my Dad's unwanted, awful anniversary. It was, after all, just another day further away from the time that he was alive. Each day is the same, in that respect. I shall attempt to bring back normal service. Much as I may have now lost my trusty 12! Down to about 3, I should think.
HELLO. I AM STILL HERE.