Dad

This week's got a fierceness to it.

Then, when it really wasn't expected, something came along and the gratitude spanned the caverns of sadness.

I have a 'paperwork' box. It gets filled with school newsletters, bank statements, forms to be filled, receipts, leaflets that I like the look of... and it never gets emptied. When it can't fit under the couch anymore I know it's time to address the issue, or at least graze the surface!

For the last 3 years or so there's been a yellow folder in there. Inside is a disc with pictures of my Dad on, shown at his funeral. Prayers read at my Dads funeral. Notes my brother made for his talk at my Dads funeral and postcards that were filled in at my Dads funeral by friends, family, work colleagues etc. who were there on the day. We asked them to simply write memories, thoughts, draw pictures about my Dad. There are 100s of them. 

I'd left that folder in there for 3 years. Scared to look. 

Today I looked; sat on the couch and read the lot. 

My heart broke all over again reading about Mr.Mitchell, Philip, Papa, Phim, Phil, DAD.

So proud he was my Dad.

Many amazing comments. One said...
"I will always remember Phil for his amazing sense of humour and incredible laugh that always lit up the hearts of those lucky enough to share his world." - Aunty Ruth

Amen sister!

Feeling raw. Missing this mans wisdom, problem solving, bear hugging, honey gathering, loving positivity. My constant encourager. Yet the memories act as a gentle bolster. Memories such as these are such a massive blessing.

This is one of my favourite photos of him. Cool dude.

It was taken in Porthcawl, just before he asked Mama permission to marry my Mum!

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