Memories
I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately. Since he died that's been a very hard thing to do. Even now I find it almost impossible to do so without crying. While dad was in hospital, he was visited regularly by various members of the clergy. In his last days, I think that he must have been visted by a member of the Catholic ministry because among his things that we took home was a rosary. I don't know why I kept it. I'm not Catholic. I just can't seem to part with it. It's always in my bag and goes with me wherever I go. It's crazy really. It seems to have become some sort of talisman to me. I panic at the thought of losing it. Maybe there's something symbolic in that, I don't know. All I know is that my dad is gone, and I've lost the most important man in my life. I've lost his words, his music, his memories, his ridicuous jokes. I try desperately to hold on to the things that I remember about him so that I can share them with other...