Skip to main content

Remembering Dad

It will be 2 years in November since my Dad died. I think of him every day, but there are some things that bring him to the fore more than others. In particular, ugg boots, Sudoku and crossword puzzles (he taught  tried to teach me how to solve cryptic clues) and growing veggies.


Dad, my sister and brothers, and little Darren (who is now 11). 
Dad's hand-built greenhouse is in the background. The space 
behind Dad got filled up with Josie's flowers and Dad's herbs 
and veg.
As I'm embarking on my first veggie garden in nearly 8 years, thoughts of Dad are inevitable. He used every inch of his tiny back yard to grow herbs and veggies, in amongst my step-Mum Josie's flowers, and even some trees, and made a tiny greenhouse out of reclaimed materials that looked like something out of a fairy story. He had a compost heap and a worm farm, and there were a couple of tortoises in there somewhere (I think there's only one now, though).

I could have called on Dad for suggestions about how to keep Dexter from eating the flowers from my plants (that's the main reason I gave up on the veggie growing!), and how best to manage my compost bins. He might even have finally persuaded me to get a worm farm going. He would have enjoyed hearing of my progress, would have congratulated me on my first harvests, and made smart and witty comments on my facebook updates.

I'll always miss Dad. He alone would have appreciated how annoying it was to have lost my favourite Sudoku pen, and I could boast to him that I can't find any that are hard enough to stump me. He would tease me for cheating at bread making by using a machine, but he truly understood what chronic fatigue felt like, as he struggled with it for decades. I can't wear my ugg boots without thinking of Dad, in the best way, and wish our winters were longer so I could wear them more.

I didn't get to go to Dad's funeral, but my sister and brother-in-law made a DVD of it for me, and sent me photos. My step-Mum consulted with me about the headstone and then sent me the final layout. I hope that I get to go back to the UK to go and see it for myself.

Dad with baby Alex, not long before Dad died.
In the meantime, I'm going to work out how to keep Dexter from snacking on my future veggies, and I'm going to enjoy thinking of Dad while I'm out working in my little, tiny garden.

Comments

  1. Treasure the memories always and don't give up on your little garden. You can make it a sort of memorial to your Dad. And at least Dexter should be very healthy with his diet of veggies. LOL.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Understanding my physical challenges: An analogy

So, I've been trying to come up with a way to explain to a non-disabled person what it's like to face physical challenges at work, as a person with a disability. My current workplace is very physically demanding, even for me, a wheelchair user with long arms, full reach, abdominal muscle control and good balance. After 2.5 years of just getting on with it, despite the inaccessibility of large areas of my workplace, I'm at a point where I'm having to say, 'Enough. I can't do it any more.'. My employer is struggling to understand what's changed. Why is my workplace 'suddenly' inaccessible? What has changed with my health, to make my work so arduous for me now? Here's my analogy*: Imagine that you are looking for a job in the field you have just qualified for. A new employer says, if you move out to our location, we'll give you a permanent job. You just have to be able to carry 10kg. Cool, you think, I can do that. I'll uproot myself...

Dear Cleaner, please don't wash my dishes.

(Warning: contains swearing. You'll see why, I hope.) Considering that I am constantly fighting with piles of dirty dishes in my little kitchen, you'd think that the first thing I'd want my cleaner to do is wash them. And I used to. But I quickly realised that although the dishes moved from the pile, through the soapy water in the sink and to the drainer, the vast majority of them didn't end up being clean. It turned out to be a great big waste of time - and a huge disappointment - and I had to wash the stupid things myself anyway. Mine aren't as pretty, but I do have a yellow bowl. So now I do them myself, eventually. When my cleaner comes, once a fortnight, I'll sit and do my dishes while he or she is doing the housework tasks I find difficult (rather than just annoying). I have also even been known to do a sink full of dishes in between cleaning visits, often in the middle of the night when I can't sleep, or when I have other pressing things to d...

I don't want more painkillers, but maybe something different.

http://allthingsclipart.com I've had another attempt to discuss my pain management medication (Tramadol + anti-inflammatory) with the GP, and have come away with no solutions. The first time, with my regular GP, I asked for my pain meds to be reviewed, as I was finding that exercising in the gym was causing me too much pain, and that it was important for me to keep exercising, as I really need to lose weight and increase my fitness if I want to be able to work again and not end up with obesity-related illness(es). Her suggestion was that I start taking a weight-loss drug. However, as weight-loss medication is incompatible with my anti-depressant (where the main side-effect is weight-gain!!), she said I should talk to my psychiatrist about changing my anti-depressant. Apart from her having missed my point, I have no intention of changing my anti-depressant, as the last time I did that I got incredibly sick, and I'm still reeling from the fall-out from tha...