Christmas Letter to Dad

Dear Dad

I miss you so much. I didn’t think this was possible but I think maybe I miss you more this year than last year. It’s been so long now since you called me, since I heard your voice.

It’s Christmas time again. People are going crazy again with Christmas shopping 😂. You always left your shopping till the last day because you were so busy in the shop. I loved going into town with you to buy a last minute present for mum. We’d jump in the car, you in your dirty jeans from working hard over the Christmas season and we’d rush around Bedford town centre trying to find the perfect gift – one that hopefully mum wouldn’t exchange!

My favourite time of this season would be when you shut the shop, loaded the car with food, and you came home knowing the next day the shop would be closed, the rush of Christmas was over and we’d all be together. You were coming home. Home with us, to rest, relax, eat, laugh, sing, dress up as Father Christmas ❤️

Last weekend I had a dinner party at my house. We had 30 guests in total!!! I know 😊 …. the house was packed! Mel’s sis and family are over from SA so we had a little Christmas party at ours. You always loved a good get together. As the evening progressed I wasn’t expecting to feel this way but I missed you intensely. I felt like you knew the party was happening but you chose not to come along. That made me feel so angry and sad at the same time. It was like you had forgotten to come along, maybe no one told you it was happening? But no, they were just weird feelings. Truth is you’re gone, a fact I keep reminding myself of every day since you left.

I’m not sure if life will ever feel the same. There’s a huge hole inside of me that misses you much. I find myself looking for you every day.

But then I have to remind myself how much you loved Christmas. You’d wake up in the morning singing ‘Happy Birthday to Jesus.’ For me it was so cringeworthy 😂 but you genuinely sang it, grateful that this was when we remembered Jesus, Hope of the World was born. In the dark midst of my heartbreak and sadness, I can see the Light of the World. Because you introduced me to Jesus, I can face tomorrow. The grief is there but like it says in the Bible Jesus miraculously turns my mourning into dancing.

A few weeks ago I was at Judah’s Christmas Concert. You would have loved it. He was bouncing up and down while he was singing, just like you used to. You would have loved watching his little mouth moving along to the words of the song. As he sang ‘Ding Dong Merrily on High’ and sang the ‘Gloria’ part so passionately I envisioned you in heaven singing that with the angels……’Gloooooooo-oooooo-ooooria, Hosana in Excelsis …. loosely translated, means “Glory (to God), salvation in the highest. You would be belting that out!! Oh dad, one day I’ll be singing along with you. The thought of that makes me sooooo happy!

Till then, as another new year approaches, another full one without you I fix my eyes on the finish line, sharing the prize of Jesus with you but also fixing my eyes on the race I’m still running. My race isn’t over yet. You ran yours so well dad! You never gave up. So 2020 means living healed, living free, living whole.

Love you dad so so much, wish I could tell you that face to face

Your Favourite Daughter

Bex xxx

The Unwanted Part of My Story

And just like that, he was gone.

I’ve tried so many times since the day dad died to write a blog but grief has hit me in ways I never imagined.  This was the part of the story I never dared to imagine, nor wanted to ever write about.  My dad has gone.  This had become a part of my story, a part I never wanted

As I left him the day before to get the train back to London, I had this feeling in my gut that this may be the last time I would see him.  I cleared the room and we shared a few moments together, just him and me.  I whispered in his ears how much he meant to me and I prayed holding his hand, and sang an old hymn we would sing together ‘I surrender all.’

I cried the whole way back to London, every place I went reminded me of dad.  The station car park where he picked me up and dropped me off for two years, all the cafes and restaurants we’d been to together at Kings Cross Station, the way he’d walk, the way he’d love to talk to people.

The next day I went to work but my heart was so heavy.  I knew that as every moment passed dad’s health was deteriorating and there was nothing I could do. It was a long dark day.  That afternoon I was just about to take Judah swimming and I got the call.

In one moment everything changed. A deep cry from the depths of my heart accompanied by a new acute pain rose to the surface of my life.  A new chapter had begun.

In the days that followed I struggled to believe he was really gone.  His presence felt so tangible.  It felt so right to believe he was going to walk in at any moment and say ‘let’s have some tea’.  The house felt empty without him.  How could one person carry so much presence?  How could we continue without his presence?  As one specific day progressed I felt the day get darker and darker.   I knew what I believed but I found myself questioning it all.  I questioned my faith, I questioned his journey for the last 18 months, I questioned heaven.  The more I questioned the heavier my heart became.  The more I doubted the more confused I felt.  I had never felt so alone and in the dark as a I did that day.  The next morning a friend came to visit us and he said something that literally lifted the heaviness off me.  He said ‘in God’s love, grace and mercy, He took your dad home.’ 

Something clicked in me – Dad couldn’t carry on in his suffering with cancer, so in love and mercy God took him home.  God’s grace took him to heaven, where he no longer suffers but lives healed and pain-free, happy and whole.  This truth literally set me free to have faith again.  It reminded me that I live by faith and not what I see, I live by what I believe and that’s what makes me as a Christian different.  I believe that my dad lived a forgiven life – forgiven by Jesus, and the forgiven live an eternity with Jesus.  This was my belief and this was what I was choosing to live by.  As a ‘forgiven’ child of God, I too would see my dad again.

I love that my dad is in heaven but to be honest sometimes that hasn’t helped my pain of missing him.  Grief is much harder and heavier than I imagined.  Loss is painful.  I find I carry it everywhere I go, every moment of every day.  It’s changed me and it’s invaded a lots of spaces.  I’ve tried placing grief to one side but that hasn’t worked.  It’s coming with me and on the way it will inevitably change me but as it does I’m aware this doesn’t need to be negative.  It could mould me into a better person if I allow it to.  I’m intrigued to see who this ‘new me’ could look like.  

This Saturday marks what would have been my dad’s 70th birthday.  We were supposed to be celebrating together – my 40th and his 70th.  He said we would put up a marquee in the garden and have a big party!  He loved a good celebration.  So I’ve pushed myself to write this blog in honour of him.  In honour of the life he lived and continues to live in heaven. The fight was never about cancer.  The fight was always for his faith.  Right to the very end he never let go of his faith.  He’s taught me life’s most important lesson : when the unwanted parts of your story unfold, hold on to your faith and never let it go.  God’s light will shine into the darkest of situations.  Even the unwanted parts of your story combined with faith can cause you to rise x

 ❤️ his hands were always ready to lift in praise to God, even at his weakest ❤️