This One's For You <3

Everyone who knows me well knows that I'm generally a really private person to the point that I don't always share personal stuff even with my sisters! Ordinarily, I wouldn't write something like this in such a public way but that being said, writing this blog is rather cathartic and I felt I had to write something for today of all days, the 9th December, especially as this blog is an honest account of my time away.

3 years ago today the world shook itself upside down and I remember everything so vividly like it was yesterday.

It was a Monday, about 6.30pm, drizzling and I'd had a shitty day at work. I had my cream blouse with flowers on, my trusty black skinny jeans and my Barbour coat with my battered old converse on my feet. I pulled up on the drive only to find I couldn't park because Gramps' car was there. That was the first indicator that something was wrong as I'd seen them that weekend and never usually saw them in such quick succession so gut instinct told me it wasn't good news.

I tentatively walked in the living room after opening the front door to see Amanda sat on the sofa next to Grandma crying and mum stood up when I walked in. Gramps was sat behind me but I didn't see him at that point. Instinctively I thought something was wrong with Ian as he was due to leave hospital that day after his hip replacement and the news that was to come hadn't even factored into my thoughts.

Mum looked at me apologetically and spoke in the gentle and calm way she naturally does. "I've got some bad news my darling, it's your dad."

"What about him?" I said, nerves all over the place. She walked over to me, looked up and said "he passed away today."

The wind went out of my sails, the air escaped my lungs and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Everything in that moment was completely still and the world stopped. "What. No he hasn't" was just about the only response I could muster. Knowing me, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd actually said to her "fuck off are you joking?" but luckily I think I kept a lid on it. Naturally, this meant mum had to confirm it again and she told me they suspected it was probably a heart attack as Taffy had found him in bed when he got back from work; he'd just never woken up.

The news seeped through my mind and skin and I developed a hot flush, stripping myself of my coat and layers to try and cool down and then I sat on the sofa and she sat on the foot rest in front of me, holding my hand.

My wonderful mum, I couldn't have loved her any more at that moment and it made my heart swell. I looked at her and the first thing I could think of was the impact it would have on her and I remember apologising to her and saying I was so sorry because despite me being 23, I had a life ahead of me and she'd put hers on hold for 10 years waiting for dad to come home from the UAE and he now never would. She was too young to be a widow and I know how much she loved him and still does to this day; it just wasn't fair.

The extent of what I'd just said to her was what made me choke and start crying but I was still in so much shock. It was at that point that I remember Gramps walking across the room. He looked at me with tears in his eyes, choked up and gave me the biggest hug telling me how sorry he was. Grandma held my hand and we had to sit and wait for Rebecca to get home.

We relived it all over again when mum opened the door and had to deliver the bad news to her and Greg who was stood behind her. I was numb and shortly after excused myself from the room, apologizing to Greg that he'd been caught up in such a devastating evening. I called Tanja to say I wouldn't be in to work but I couldn't get hold of her so had to send a text in the end. I then phoned Rach, Alanna, Jess, Izzy and Ellie as I hadn't wanted them to find out elsewhere or read it on Facebook where it would inevitably end up. I remained calm the entire time and it was only when I spoke to Izzy and I could hear her crying that the words I was using hit me, all other conversations before and after just felt like words. Sarah was working so I hadn't talked to her until I knew she was safely at home because you don't know how people will react and I knew she had to drive. Once she messaged to say she was back, I called her to tell her the news and she soon turned up unexpectedly on my doorstep and threw her arms around me and gave me the biggest hug whilst we both stood and had a cry.

That night wasn't one for sleeping and I felt as sick as a pig, eventually retiring downstairs to put the TV on where I couldn't lay down without wanting to throw up and I spoke to Neha in the early hours of the morning as she was up for work. The whole of the following day was a conveyor belt of people turning up, making phone calls to let people know and endless cups of tea. The tea is what I remember the most as we joked about it wondering how many teabags we'd gone through that week with all our visitors!

Izzy turned up on the doorstep in the morning around the same time as Uncle John and bless her heart she'd thought of us all and had bacon and baguettes for sandwiches and some carrot sticks for Rebecca as that was all she said she could stomach at that point.

People had started to write their condolences on Facebook, so we felt we had to write something from us to announce it officially, even though it felt too soon to have to say something but we wanted people to hear it from us rather than others.

A few days later, we were on the plane to Abu Dhabi to try and sort stuff out and get Dad's body home in time for Christmas. It was an absolute nightmare and we hit barrier after barrier but none of the stuff we got sorted would have been possible without the help of Taffy. He was our knight in shining armour and the extent of his kindness will never be repayable. We all absolutely adore him and he means the world to us, as he did to dad.

Christmas was horrendous and thankfully came and went very quickly, as did the funeral in mid January which despite being really sad was actually weirdly a wonderful day of celebrating a life lived to the full with plenty of laughter reminiscing. Life then had to resume and it was back to the grindstone.

It's been a rocky road with some seriously shitty days and too many other funerals to attend sadly but that brings us back to today. My god how things have changed in those three years.

I'm absolutely not the same person I was back then. In many ways, I'm still the same loyal, fun-loving, crazy, sometimes shy and super affectionate person I always was but with a different outlook and attitude plus a little less tolerance of other people's bullshit. As Izzy says to me, "I loved you back then but you've got a bit more bite and sass about you now!"

It's days like these where I miss the Prichard girls the most whilst I'm travelling. I just want to hear their friendly voices, the jokes and laughter and most of all, have their big hugs.

Sat here in Fiji though, I can hardly complain. I don't know whether it's a Pisces thing or just because it reminds me of holidays in Chichester when I was a child but the beach is my happy place. It doesn't matter where I am in the world, I feel most at peace when I can sit on the sand and watch the waves roll in; it's so peaceful, calming and in my case, healing. You can just watch the world go by and it's as if the tide washes your troubles away.

I'm an upbeat and cheerful sort of person and I rarely cry; I always try and focus on the positives. I will admit though, being sat on the beach today, that's exactly what I did. Yes, I did cry for you Dad, but mostly, I cried for myself.

I cried because I've embarked on this huge adventure and can't tell you about it.

I cried because I can't talk to you about the funny characters I've met and the places I've seen, knowing that some of them you would have liked.

I cried because I want you to be proud of me in what I've achieved and overcome in the last three years and knowing it and hearing it are such different things.

I cried because I want to tell you about the fears I've conquered so far which are huge for me.

I cried because I can't tell you that I'm no longer as scared to walk into a room full of people I don't know; a trait I always envied you of.

I cried because you thought you were invincible, even though you'd already had a massive heart attack in 2000.

I cried because you drank too much, ate a crap diet (despite your protests you didn't) and smoked too much shisha after years of smoking cigarettes knowing the damage it would do.

I cried because you never made it home to live with us again.

I cried because you knew the consequences of not looking after yourself and despite all the rows about it, it's Mum and us girls that are suffering the consequences both in you being gone and the mess you left us to deal with.

I cried because I should have spent more time with you on that holiday in Abu Dhabi two weeks before you died and not started the explosive row the day before I left about the relationship you had with your sons, especially since the younger one sold the special edition Omega watch you left him not long after he got it.

I cried because you will never get to meet the guy I marry (when I eventually meet him!)

I cried because you won't walk me down the aisle, give a hilarious Father-of-the-Bride speech or twirl me around for the father-daughter dance.

I cried because you won't be around to meet your grandchildren (fingers crossed they happen!)

I cried because I miss us both getting up to mischief at the dinner table and being told to behave ourselves.

I cried because none of my friends' dad's made every car journey a Ministry of Sound rave like you did.

I cried because I miss the look on your face when you had got someone a great birthday or Christmas present and it used to make you well up seeing how happy they were.

I cried because I miss our similar dry sense of humour and jokes which used to make you proper belly laugh so loud your eyes would fill with tears.

I cried because I miss those hilarious Sainsbury's trips where we would fill the trolley with all sorts of shite we didn't need but both wanted to try, whether it was a new beer, cider, wine or pack of sweets.

I cried because I had reminisced with my uni girls about how you made us laugh on that last NYE together when you invited everyone from the George and Dragon pub back to ours for an after party and promptly took yourself upstairs and fell asleep.

I cried because Christmas was your favourite time of year, and mine, and somehow it's not the same anymore even though we still make it as festive as possible.

I cried because sometimes I just need your advice the way only you could give it.

I cried because Monty Python's "Always look on the bright side of life" came on my iPhone whilst I was on the beach and it will forever make me think of you where I can picture you singing it in the house, wagging your fingers to emphasise the point; it was your life mantra after all.

I cried because I've had to listen to people ranting about how much their parents piss them off knowing they don't fully appreciate them and have no idea how lucky they are, where I would trade the world to be able to even be mad at you in person again.

I cried because in the last couple of years, too many people I know both from around home and uni have lost a parent and I know how devastating it is but it also makes me think of you and how it doesn't get any easier, in some ways it's actually harder.

I cried because some days I really hate you.

Most of all though, I cried because I miss you and wish you were still here you miserable, funny, loveable, argumentative, grumpy bastard.

"You will never be completely at home again. Because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place."

I love you xxx