Happy Birthday Daddy…

I keep records of birthdays in my calendars and diaries, and along the names I write the age they will be that year and bracket them.  Daddy would have been 89 today.

Daffodils will always remind me of him,

Daff2

He died five years ago yesterday, the day before his 84th birthday, in hospital, peacefully with my brother by his side.

The image of God our Father is formed by our earthly father.

Mine was an exacting man and I know I de-railed his quest for perfection in the everyday of my life.

In his final years, when his mind had been relieved of the burdens of responsibility, he fell into a life of dependency.

His true self suited him, the man he was created to be shone and I clearly saw my heavenly father as depicted before me in my elderly Dad.

When I visited him from America I would walk into the sitting room of his nursing home at Westgate-on-Sea and watch as his face lit up on catching sight of me in the doorway.

“Ah, there you are Vivienne,” he’d say as if I’d just popped out for a moment.

He’d go to stand, then move over in his armchair and pat the empty space he’d made inviting me to sit beside him.

He bore no grudges against the length of time I’d left between visits, what mattered most to him was that I was there, now.

My Father in Heaven keeps no record of the length of time between visits either.

I learned this from my father in the end.

I know exactly how I will be received in heaven when my time comes,

“Ah, there you are Vivienne,” will be boomed across the throne room and a space will be made for me beside Him as if I was his only daughter!

Thank you Daddy.

I love and miss you.

Share this:

No comments so far!

Leave a Comment