Since Dad got ill with pre-Leukaemia and then myeloid leukaemia I’ve been incredibly conscious that any given interaction could be our last. Every phone call that I made, every visit.
I really focussed on things I wanted to make sure I told him, like really big life things. And I was aware of what I wasn’t saying and why. I thought the things I avoided saying would be the things that messed me up when he was gone.
I have never been good at regularly calling home. This wasn’t totally my fault, my parents weren’t great at contacting me either especially since I started working shifts on Sundays. But I did occasionally ring at random times for quick calls.
Last year sometime I called Dad from a lay-by- I forget what about, some work related rant. I had that weird awareness that I wouldn’t always be able to do this.
That’s what’s really making me sad, I can’t just randomly call Dad and tell him ordinary stuff or make him laugh with work stories or tell him about this beer I’ve found.