My beloved Dad died too long ago to be quite right.
It was only this year that I realised that when I say “he died too soon” what I really mean is he died too soon for me.
Does that make sense? Do you understand?
Over the years I have had so much to tell him, things I needed to share; some that would have pleased him, made him proud, others would have made him angry. He could have given me comfort when I needed it most, he would have made me laugh as he always did, given me a cuddle just because, and have continued to be his charismatic crazy self.
What I am trying to say is that I wasn’t finished with him yet. I’m still not finished.
Of course he would probably argue that he would have preferred to hang about a bit longer as well.
In the mists of time, on a bizarre whim, I pruned his roses. They all died. He laughed I think. He wasn’t bothered. He forgave me, yet again. They were horrid standards anyway. It was for the best.
My pruning skills have improved greatly since.
Happy Fathers Day x
Off The Edge Gardening 
It makes perfect sense. And yes I understand.
My died died to soon.
I still want to call him when something flowers. I hear his voice in my head disapproving my wonky vegetable rows.
My dad gave me my passion for all things growing even if we had very different ideas on how this should be done.
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Does anyone not die too soon for someone else? I still think of the things I never got round to saying to Dad (or Mum). Now, if I want to say something to anyone, I call round, pick up the phone, email or tweet there and then. You never know.
I hope the CV you sent to prospective clients lists all the plants you don’t like. So they know what sudden plant deaths to expect if they let you loose. 🙂
Happy loving memories day.
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The time is never right. Your Dad would be so proud of your pruning skills as well as all your other skills. a lovely tribute.
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I also have my, gone too soon, Dad, on my shoulder disapproving of the ‘wildlife’ areas aka uncut grass and weeds but also approving of my vegetable crops and myriad other things in my family life that he has missed. Father’s Day and the like can be tough but a good opportunity to remember.
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I totally understand! I lost my father almost 14 years ago, still seems weird sometimes that he is gone. He was a geology professor, I always have some of his rocks in my garden.
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A lovely poignant post which I can certainly relate to as my dad also died a long time ago. xx
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When my mother died 11 years ago, at age 95, a dear friend told me, “You feel her absence now, but as time passes, you will feel her presence.” This has proved to be true and it’s a comfort to me. Still, there’s definitely an empty space in my life, a feeling of not being nourished, as she was the one who loved me unconditionally.
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Dear Gill, I have tears. My dad died last November aged 89, which is old, and he had Parkinson’s Disease for 24 years, and he had had enough. I was so lucky to have had him for so long, I am so sorry that you did not have your dad for longer. I do understand every word that you wrote, I am not finished with my dad yet. I know that he would have loved to have had the strength to go on a little longer and see his grandchildren start their adult lives with the same love and encouragement that he gave his own children. I loved my dad and will miss him forever. Much love, TT x
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My Pop is still here after 86 years. As kids, he would read stories from literature
(Dickens, Kipling, Stevenson, Wilde, Hawthorne, Poe, J.M.Barrie, Frost, Plath, Burrows) to my siblings and I. One of his favorites was Vachel Lindsay, an American Poet. Lindsay wrote a singing poem named “The Santa Fe Trail” which proclaimed the human folly of industrialization
and war ridiculous, he loved it!
I think I was ten or twelve years old before I realized Peter Pan and Neverland were not on this planet. I was heartbroken.
He would make us kids walk through the woods in complete silence, we could not speak for fear of a backhand across the noggin, at first I felt this was some sort of punishment for being born a human. then little by little, I delighted in the flowers growing on the forest floor, the woodpeckers hailing us from above, the whispering wind caressing my soul, the insect choir,
the billowing clouds restlessly rambling. How lucky did I get! Thanks, Pop!
Quote from Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie
“To die will be an awfully big adventure”
– J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan
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How lucky you are, he sounds absolutely amazing. The kind of man we need more of. Definitely. Thanks x
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