Christmas without Dad
This will be the first Christmas without Dad. We celebrated my 40th without him and now – Christmas. The only thing that seems to take our minds off the fact that Dad isn’t here – is distraction. The kiddies, pressies, food, TV, people. Without these distractions there would be a really loud hole. We’d probably all be sitting in a circle, staring at the floor, randomly bursting into tears. Distraction is about the best and accessible way of coping with loss, but sometimes I wonder whether it’s really just another form of Western denial.
Dan, Ben, Bob and I have been working on Dad’s boat. Rubbing off the barnacles, sanding back the paint, removing dry and wet rot. It’s a wooden boat. It was once a fishing boat.
Bob is 86 years old and full of stories. Dad used to take Bob out fishing. Bob is an amazing cook. His filletted whiting are a real treat. He used to work on the merchant trading ships and has more than a few stories. He’s 86. We were laughing yesterday because Bob had to go in for a liver and blood check. There’s a chance he has cancer. I think we were laughing because – plainly speaking – Bob is in bonus years. His wife also died of cancer.
At 86, Bob is younger than Dad in a way. Any age has got to be younger than dead. Dead is infinity.
