So, 15 years ago today. 4pm. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was working at Argos. Ken appeared at the bottom of the stairs and said Dad had died. Go to his house, and he was at rest. Even now, 15 years on, there isn't a day I don't think about him, what fun we could have had together. He didn't see Pat or I graduate, see Jen and I get married, see the successful careers Pat, Jen and I have forged for ourselves. Of course he never saw his grand-daughter, and he would have doted on her - although I still don't think I would have got him near a nappy.
Now here I stand with a beautiful and smart two year old daughter, and a nine year old marriage to a fantastic woman, I am blissfully happy. Time is a great healer - what doesn't knock you down does make you stronger. I have strived every day to make my Dad proud, and although I don't believe in all that guff, I'd like to believe somewhere he's looking down on us all, a proud proud man.
9-13 September will be tough, but I will get there, and yet again I hope you will be proud of me - I still miss you Dad and hopefully I am doing my bit in your memory.
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