The living Years - A Tale of Regret

It is tunes like this that just bring home to you what you've lost.

My Dad died in November of last year. I hadn't seen him for twenty four years - we'd lost touch, mainly because of my own ambivalence towards my family. As far as I was concerned he'd died in 2009 - I was told this in 2012 so I thought I'd missed the chance of a reconciliation (even though we hadn't lost touch on bad terms) To me, my father had died in 2009 and that was it, the end.

But of course it wasn't the end. The information I'd received in 2012 was wrong. My Dad was still alive after 2009 - in fact he was alive in November 2017.

Had it not been for me swallowing my pride and calling my brother - who I'd not spoken to since 2010 (what a family!?) - I might not have had the opportunity to see my dad again.

We met for the first time since 1993 on November 19th 2017. He was amiable and jovial as I always remembered him, but clearly very ill. We chatted as though the missing years didn't matter. I was so happy to have found him again - as if he'd risen from the dead.

Dad died on November 24th.

I have so many regrets. 


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