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Fathers Day

I should have been writing this in Nottingham, lying in my childhood bedroom. Instead I'm at home on my sofa while Big Girl watches TV in my bedroom. 

I didn't make it to Nottingham this weekend because I've had a s&d bug plus the heat has killed me. I made the mistake of drinking loads of water (which is what 'normal' people do when it's hot) which just passed straight through me. My poor bowel didn't know what was happening. Pint after pint of water went in- and out. 

So I switched to St Marks mix (a horrible mix of salts and sugar) which helps to keep the electrolytes balanced. Since drinking that, and not throwing up any more, I've felt a lot better. 

So instead of cuddles with my Dad this morning he's had to make do with a phone call. But he told me he would prefer for me to stay at home than end up in hospital. 

As it's Father's Day I would like to introduce you to my Da. (That's not a typo- that's what I call him)


As you might guess from the photo, he's a bit mad. But I love him for it. Growing up he was very strict with my sister and I but then it didn't do us that much harm! He's mellowed in his old age and infact he's probably one of the craziest granddad there are. He will often be found in the soft play centres, going down the slides, playing with my kids and all their friends (who all call him grandad too!)

He's incredibly loving. He's always at the end of the phone whenever I need him. He thinks nothing of just 'popping down' the M1 if I'm not well or I need him. He's held my hand and wiped my tears more times than I can remember. 

One memory that really sticks out was last year after my operation. I was dreadfully ill and he had come down to visit me for the day. The nurses got me out of bed and he fed me my lunch. Like a baby. I only managed a few mouthfuls of potato and yoghurt before feeling sick and he tenderly wiped the dribble from my chin before putting me back to bed. 

That sums him up to me. He's a gentle giant. I know he 'would rip the head off' anyone that upset me (his words not mine!) but he has also stroked my head so gently as I lay in hospital. 

I'm sorry for all the worry and stress that I've had to put him through. I wasn't the easiest teenager and the last five years must have been horrible for him. I can't imagine what it must be like to see your child ill and suffering but he's always been the strong one, looking after my mum, my sister and even my husband at times. 

So today I'm thankful for my Da. Lots of my friends have lost their Dads and would give anything for 5 more minutes with them or one more hug. So while I may not be able to do him breakfast in bed this morning or give him real life cuddles, hopefully he knows how much I love him and how very proud I am to call him my Da. 

I've seen a few quotes on the internet that sum up how I feel... 



NB x
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