I thought I would write this letter to you, as it’s been 10 years since you left us, and I miss talking to you. I’ve wanted to talk to you nearly every day, as it happens, yet I’ve always felt so unsure about what to say, because I’ve never felt like you went away. I still have your number on my phone; I have your guitar upstairs and I have your picture in my room. It’s the hardest thing in the world to lose your best friend, because that’s what you were to me.
Life’s been difficult since you’ve been gone. My children have grown, and the eldest is now taller than me. My little one can’t remember you. I’m sorry for that, dad; I wish he could. I wish he could remember a little bit about you, but he was only 2, so he has no memory of you. He was a baby when you passed. Your grandchildren have grown into lovely boys and are doing really well at school – one is academic and my youngest s more creative; very much like you. You would enjoy talking to them, I’m sure, as both are great at conversation, extremely polite and have your funny sense of humour. They would make you smile.
I was reflecting this morning about your personality and how funny you were and the knack you had of always making people laugh. Everybody remembers that about you Dad, the way you saw comical things in everything that happened around you. The way you could sit with a group of people, even complete strangers, and make them laugh; all of them. I also remember how accident-prone you were. I’m like that too; I’m always tripping over and not looking where I’m going. Like father, like daughter.
I have your guitar with your music sheets. I take it out sometimes and play it a little and so do the boys. I was so proud of you. I can watch the footage on my camera now, it’s nice to hear your voice because I’ve forgotton what you sounded like. It has taken me a number of years to see you like that, because I’ve never really come to terms with the fact you are no longer here.
I desperately needed you a couple of years ago. I’m now divorced. Are you surprised? I think you would be glad that I finally gained my freedom. I found my life to be extremely difficult at that time, and your advice would have really helped me get through the trauma of it all. I’m in a relationship with someone, but I’m not completely happy and unsure of what to do for the best. You would know what to do! I just wish I could get an answer from you. You would like him, he’s similar to you, he looks after me and gives me support, but it’s not ideal.
I can’t count the amount of times I’ve seen you for real since you were gone. It’s when I’m dreaming. You are very real then. I hear your voice very plainly, and I see your face vividly. It’s nice, really nice. But when I wake, I cry, because I realise it’s a dream.
I was sitting having a meal today, 3 days before the anniversary of you leaving me, on the 18th, and there was a guy sitting over the way from me. He looked like you. Same stature, longish hair and smile. I was watching him, from the corner, not to be nosy, just savouring the memories of you. I need that sometimes. He got up and walked away… walked just like you!! I carried on looking at him through the window as he crossed the road, he turned to the side and his profile was just like yours…it was uncanny. I need those moments, they help me to cope.
Wonderful you. My dad, my playmate, my best friend, my confidante, my trust, my safety-net and my life.
Speak soon Dad,
I love you