Tomorrow will be a really hard day for us.
Tomorrow is the second Father’s Day, on which my children will be without their Daddy.
Without the post-baby haze that we were in last time, it is overwhelmingly obvious that there is a big space in our lives this year.
No waking up and forcing Jason to pretend to be asleep, so the boys can ‘wake him up’ with cards and presents. No kettle going on for cups of tea with too many sugars. No giggling at his attempts to be oh-so-enthusiastic about scribbled pictures on scraps of paper.
I will wake up on my own. Not bother making a brew for one. And I will take on my role as both Mother and Father, as I do every day.
I will quietly reflect on what we are missing, but to the boys, it will be a day to talk even more about their favourite person.
How funny Daddy was. How kind he was. How amazing his van was!
We will visit his bench, and take down laminated cards and ceramic hearts with messages of love they made for him.
The boys will run around, climbing trees, sliding down hills, getting muddy.
I will sit. Alone.
I will tell him that I needed him when Toby was struggling at school this week.
I will tell him that I wished he was there to help me get Barnaby walking.
I will tell him that George is the most hilarious little boy I have ever known, and he must get that from him.
I will be sad, yet I will find joy in my memories of him.
And then, when we leave, life will resume. My Dad deserves a special day, so after our quiet reflection in the morning, the day belongs to G! (More about my Dad tomorrow!)
So, here is to Jason.
Thank you for my wonderful Children. They saved me.
Happy Father’s Day.