On the sunny afternoon of July 21 2015, age 65, my beloved father breathed his last breath as my mum, my brothers and I stood beside. In that moment, as my vision blurred with salt water and my heart made its way into my throat, I was overcome with a strong epiphany. I said out loud, “You just won Dad, you just won.” The revelation, that death had been defeated. Even though it was so potent in the moment, I struggle to grasp it now.
My Dad had a beast in him called Cancer. Like a wolf tracking its prey, the beast weaved through muscle and bone leaving its prints behind. Marking its territory with a deathly scent. This wolf, clothed now as grief, waits at my door. I dare not let it in for fear of its suffocating breath. But I watch it for a long time There’s something about it. A gentleness, a protection, a calm…danger.
This blog is a way for me to invite the wolf in. And perhaps, step by step, inch by inch, we will again sit together.
In many ways, this blog feels like a self indulgent exploration of grief. Lone floating in the ocean of me. But I sincerely hope it’s more than that. I hope that somehow my wandering thoughts meet yours, and toe to toe may they dance a little. Or perhaps that my hearts cry may echo in the chambers of your chest, telling you that you are not alone.