23/09/2025
Today is the anniversary of my Dad's passing....33 years on, and still I recall so many things about how the evening unfolded. The light in the sky as I travelled back from Uni on the bus, what we ate for dinner, the jumper I was wearing. Random stuff, but cemented in my mind, determined not to forget.
I don't have many photos of my Dad except ones when I was little and he was carrying me in his arms or on his shoulders. On the night he died, I still remember vividly him being carried out of the house by the funeral director and the feeling of wanting to be the one that carried him, not by these strangers. I was only 21, and looking back it was probably a lot to be alone with him as he died - my Mum had ran out of the house unable to cope with what was happening and my brother was at the pub, equally trying to deny what was imminent. But, truly, it was a privilege to be with him, and see him over...it was peaceful and there was so much love and energy in the room with us.
I can now see that this experience set the stage for much of my adult life to unfold... holding space for transitions, through both birth and death, has become my greatest life work. Helping prepare folk to approach these initiatory times without fear, but with a handrail of trust. But also to honour and acknowledge the lives we are living all the while...the transience of it all...and what a privilege it is to live and experience life in all its hues and colours, here and now.
Today, I walked up Long Mynd and held Dad close in my heart, he was a big walker, climber and camper back in the day. The sun shone, my heart ached and yet, still, all these years on, I feel him close and know he's my biggest ally and strength in spirit.
We are carried, always. xx
