Monday, 10 March 2014


I haven't mentioned my lovely Dad much before; I haven't really wanted to. It just felt too personal. He had a big operation two years ago and sadly never properly recovered.

Dad battled so hard; he was so brave, but after Christmas began slipping down hill.

He lost his fight on the last day of February.

Dad rallied a little towards the end, which gave us all a chance to spend some time with him and say goodbye. Really special to have that. He knew we were there; he was calm and peaceful.

I felt I wanted to tell you, because it's such a major event in my life; because I couldn't keep something like this from my friends; because it wouldn't feel right to simply plough on with posts about making stuff from egg boxes without saying. That would be too weird.

But please don't feel you need to write back - I just want to be able to mention him from time to time, and for you to know why.

I read this at Dad's Funeral. I honestly can't remember reading it, but I'm so glad I did.

When I close my eyes, you’re holding my hand,
By the sea; smiling; sand between our toes,
I’m in your shadow looking up,
Safe, Secure, Loved.

When I close my eyes, you’re with my friends,
Laughing, joking, enjoying the attention,
Glass in your hand,
Funny, Wise, Generous,

You touched so many lives.

When I close my eyes you’re lost
and full of sadness,
swamped by waves of emotion
that ebb and flow forever.

When I close my eyes it’s your Wedding Day,
Happiness wraps round you,
Your soulmate by your side,
Love with no limits.
Adventures ahead you’d never have dreamt of,
A life full to the brim.

When I close my eyes you’re holding Sam,
a new shoot to the Tree,
Passionate and determined
like his Grandad.

You looked out for us all,
Guiding, advising,
Practical, sensible,
Unfailingly honest.

When I close my eyes you’re at peace,
Released from the pain.
You slipped away surrounded by love,
Nothing left unsaid.

Always in our hearts.


  1. I'm so sorry to hear about your Dad Tracey and can understand why you said nothing until now. I was the same when my Mum was ill (she was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2010 and died a year later.) I kept quiet until she was gone. I too read a poem at Mum's funeral and was glad that I managed it. It is very hard losing a beloved parent and you must talk about him as much as you want. Your poem is very touching. Take care of yourself. xxx

  2. So sorry, Tracey, to hear this. Your poem is just beautiful, it made me cry. xxx

  3. Big hugs to you. So sorry to hear about your Dad. Your poem is lovely, just lovely. Thank you for sharing something so personal.... again, big hugs; such a huge event for you and your family. X

  4. You have my deepest sympathy Tracey. I lost my Dad just over year ago, a few weeks before Christmas and I too read my poem at his funeral (and blogged about it). Although it's personal to you, you'll feel the support and sympathy of your friends and fellow bloggers will strengthen you. I feature my Dad often in my blog, and just last week, it was his art which was the main illustration in my post. Then, I talk to my Mum on the phone, and I read her all the nice things that people say and she too is happy that his memory is being kept alive in this way. That's a lovely poem and the writing and re-reading of it in itself will be cathartic.

  5. Thank you, I'm so touched, thanks for all your support xx

  6. Tracey, I haven't been online altogether that much recently, and I am just catching up. I am so sorry for your loss. You did so well to read that poem, it's utterly beautiful. Take comfort in your memories. Big hug xx

  7. Ah Tracey, I'm so sorry to hear this, it must be devastating, and I'm so glad you had some time with him at the end when it was peaceful, to be able to say good bye. Thinking of you xxx

  8. That's a beautiful poem, did you write it? I stopped writing my blog when my Mum was diagnosed because it was too painful, and only now, a year after she died, do I feel ready to venture out again. Xxx

    1. I'm so sorry Ginger. It is really hard - sometimes think it hasn't properly sunk in yet. I've tried keeping busy, and blogging a bit. Helps at the moment, but that might change. Just going to go with how I feel xxx

  9. I'm sorry to hear this. I lost my mum seven weeks before my daughter was born in 2006. It's hard. The first anniversary felt like 6 months! It was so raw and shocking that it had been a year. It does get better. I think of my mum often but not as often accompanied by the sense of sadness and loss. I dream of her and in those dreams she's always still here, like she never left. Perhaps she is still here. I hope your pain and sadness ease. They will. x

    1. Thanks Emma Kate. Ups and downs at the moment. Still raw, still try to block it out. Know the sense of loss will release its grip a little as time goes by. Must have been incredibly hard losing your mum just before your daughter was born. So many emotions to deal with. I'm sure she is with you x