Looking at the wine Audi you just got parked outside the door knowing you wouldn’t drive it again.
Seeing your bus being driven by someone else around Cork.
The oil that seemed permanently stained to the creases in your fingers.
The time you saw me qualifying for Mosney in athletics at the Community Games but I was excited when I saw you and I just missed my start.
How you rubbed your hands and yawned when you came downstairs in the morning at weekends.
How you drank your tea black and only had Rice Krispies with boiling hot milk.
How you refused to admit that we were lost on holidays in Jersey.
Walking the greyhounds with you.
Watching you watching us decorate the Christmas tree days before you went.
The way you always popped your head around the door before I fell asleep just to say good night.
Sitting at the front of your bus pretending I was driving it making a vroom noise for the entire time of the drive.
When I helped you varnish the garage door and spilled varnish on my new top and you knew Mom wouldn’t be impressed 🙂
Sneaking down to the shop at the greyhound track to buy the present you never got to open.
The night we walked around the village and I told you I knew Santa wasn’t real 🙂
You helping me learn how to write the number 3.
Teaching me to cycle my bike without stabilisers in the back garden.
When I came third in the national writing competition and ringing you at work to tell you.
When you drove me and my friends to the cinema for my 12th birthday, the last one you ever saw me celebrate.
Friday Night sweets…
That is a really heartfelt tribute, beautifully written. Sorry for your loss.
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