Dad

Today would have been my father’s 72nd birthday and I miss him so much. It is a sad fact that we will all experience the loss of a loved one at some point in our lives but that doesn’t make things any easier.

I’ve always had the passion for writing since I stuck my head into C.S. Lewis’ Narnia books and felt snow on my nose as I peered out from within that magical wardrobe, although I had never made the effort to actually put pen to paper.

“I’d love to write a novel, one day,” I’d say, time and time again but it took the death of my loving father to push my lazy ass into gear, as thoughts of my own mortality reared their ugly heads.

My book is in progress and, whether it takes me two years or ten to complete it, it will be worth it, even if just one person likes it. OK, one person plus me!

Here’s a poem I wrote about the last few moments with my Dad.

Hope you like it and please let me know what you think.

Just click on the link below:

I Would Eat Sprouts

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