Are you really gone?
How can you be?
We were only laughing together a few short weeks ago....
Laughing about life's foolishness, and the people who make it so foolish.
I've heard tell that those who say they don't care what other's think of them actually care the most. You didn't care what they thought, and proved it often with your interaction with the world. A trait that I admired more than you ever knew. As a teenager who thought he was oh so anarchic, you showed me that being your authentic self was far more rewarding, and I have hopefully retained this nugget of wisdom to carry with me.
Knocking on your door to be answered by you in your ancient rugby top, sleaves looking like they had survived a bear attack.
I still have so many questions I didn't have time to ask you, and this hurts incredibly. I know I would have received honest and sagelike advice, and would have endeavoured to follow your words.
Music. My greatest love, and again, you were the driving force in forging my tastes beyond the disposable, chart based 'hits' and discovering for myself. "Have you heard this?" was often spoken between ourselves as we tried to out do each other with our musical prowess.
Just yesterday I was reduced to tears when listening to a new album and thinking 'Dad will love this!' only to remember that yes, you would love it, but we cannot listen to it together.
These will be the times I miss you most, but also the times you will live on; because I promise you this, Dad. You will never, ever be forgotten.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I love you.
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