He’s my everything. He gave me life. Nurtured me. Picked me up when I’ve needed him to. Tucked me in at night when I was a little girl. Always had a space reserved for me on his knee.
My Dad was always such a big guy. He was a giant when I was a little girl. I remember looking at him, staring up high to see his big round happy face. He always had a twinkle in his eye for me. My Dad doesn’t just love me, he adores me. He tells me so, even now at 37.
He and I have special songs, that help us connect and reminisce about important times in our lives together.
He and I have a special rapport that I know he doesn’t share with anyone else. He’s my Daddy, now, then and forever more.
These days when I look at my Daddy, I see a man whose face wears the trials and tribulations of someone who hasn’t always been dealt a lucky hand. I see him. He’s 63 now, it was his birthday yesterday. He didn’t celebrate though because he was in the Cardiology receiving ward.
You see my Daddy, protective as always, didn’t tell me that he’s been a bit ‘under the weather’ for a wee while. He took a turn on Sunday night though that landed him in hospital. I had tried calling him yesterday, a good few times and when he didn’t answer my gut knew something was wrong and the churning in my tummy sent doubts and concerns to my mind.
I was right, something was wrong and now we’re amidst the uncertainty that comes with X rays and ECGs. He’s confident that he isn’t desperately unwell. The tension in his body and the attempt to stifle his tears when I eventually hugged him yesterday told me that that isn’t the case. He’s terrified and I am too.
Get well soon, my big Da’. I love you to the ends of the earth auld yin and I’m sending prayers and love and best wishes right up to the sky.
Always your wee princess, Ali ❤️
Peace and love to you all xx