Feelings on Father’s Day

How am I doing this year?
I’ve been thinking about Dad extra amounts this week. More has reminded me of him. I’ve felt quieter and more subdued. I’ve been nervous about how today would be. 

This morning I’m trying to keep busy, but also keep in mind the knowledge that I can still celebrate Fathers Day. I have a wonderful Dad, that in twenty six years with me, gave me a wonderful childhood, advice and so much love. 

Looking forward, this time next year, we will be celebrating Father’s Day in a different way. We will be parents, caring for our gorgeous little boy or girl. A child far less fortunate than myself, in regards to parenting. Jim will step into that role. He will be wonderful. He is so much like my own Dad. 

Please don’t feel sorry for me, or any other grieving children today. Just promise me you will spend time with your own Dad’s while you still have the chance.

Hate breeds hate

I am saddened to see so much hate on my newsfeed this morning. 

So many close minded opinions, sharing of religious statements taken out of context and articles plucked from thin air to prove your way is right. 

I love a healthy debate. One in which each person in turn airs their views, open to be swayed by others in a way to understand eachother and consolidate what you believe.

I agree we have to challenge those that are doing wrong in our eyes, not to condemn but to understand why they think differently from us.

Next time you see hurtful comments or articles shared, instead of tutting and ignoring it, or sending hurtful comments straight back why don’t you ask a challenging open question?


  • I am intrigued by your point of view. I would like to understand how you came to think this way?
  • I understand your anger, I am saddened by what is happening too. What do you think you or I can do to help on a day to day basis?
  • I am trying really hard to understand where you are coming from. Could you please send me useful links so I can research this for myself?

Can you hear the difference? It is obvious you are from another opinion, but you are open to be swayed or challenged. 

Maybe this way you will either:

  1. Receive a very well thought out answer that may help you understand where they are coming from.
  2. Have the opportunity to share your beliefs also in an open and relaxed discussion
  3. Or more hateful statements will be returned and at this point you can choose to leave the conversation or ask another kind and considered open question.

I am going to be selective on what I write and when. Maybe private messages rather than comment sections will be more amicable?

I have no idea if it’s going to work, but I can’t swipe passed anymore hate without doing something about it.

I would appreciate your support.

Please share your kind and open opinions on what I have said in the comments section below.

Remember love online, offline, always.

I am pretty.

Sometimes I really don’t feel very pretty at all.

I look in the mirror and see every flaw.

Every pore. Every line. Every dot. Every mark.

Anything I ever liked about myself is masked by this feeling of ‘unprettyness’.


But I am pretty.


I am…

pretty kind

pretty funny

pretty brave

pretty strong

pretty courageous

pretty smart

pretty cool

pretty successful

pretty adventurous

pretty thoughtful

Pretty talented

pretty ambitious

pretty spontaneous

pretty lovable


I am pretty damn awesome.


….and so are you.

yes, You.

Give yourself the credit you deserve.

you are pretty damn awesome.



Is good good enough?

Yesterday I wrote saying I felt really good.

It was true. I do.

But what if I want more than good?

What if I want to feel great?

I can feel good for as long as I let myself feel it. 

Good is steady. Good is in the middle. The plateau.

Good doesn’t let in the major lows, but it also doesn’t let in the major highs.

I miss feeling major highs.

You know like dancing the waltz so fast that your feet feel like they are whizzing above the ground, as your partner swings you left 123 right 123, from tippy toes to crown sparkling with glee.

Like watching a heart wrenching love story that cuts you open and reminds you why you are so lucky to feel the same love as the protagonist and for him to feel the same love for you. 

Like loosing yourself in sex, so much so that you forget where you are, just two hearts beating in the moment.

Like belting out to ‘Les Miserables – On My Own’ in the bathroom with your eyes closed imagining you are on a West End stage. 

Allowing myself to feel great is also allowing myself to feel.

I’m scared of feeling.

Feelings hurt.

But tonight my friends have helped me to realise that good is not good enough for me. I want great. I am willing to cut through all of the hurt to find it-

But it might be ugly.

At least I have the day off work tomorrow! πŸ™ˆ 

Setting the table

There are lots of things that hurt that I expected would hurt. 

There are also things that hurt that I hadn’t anticipated.

This is one of those.

Every night we set the table I count through the people in the house.

I count Mum, Joe, Fred, Ella, Jim, Myself and 

and… erm…

and it stings every single time.

I thought I would get used to it, but it’s still the same pain as 11 weeks ago.

I still make myself do it though, set the table I mean, because if I don’t do it someone else will feel the sting.

Sometimes I just get all the plates, cups and cutlery out in piles on the table for people to help themselves to avoid any counting at all.

So that’s a thing.

Everything else is gliding along though.

It’s all happening and we’re kind of floating along with it.

I’m feeling a little more these days, still not in full HD 1080p yet, but it’s progress.

I’m trying really hard to look forward to Christmas. I love this time of year so much. I’m determined to make it happy and lovely and memorable.

If all this has taught me something I am a determined little soul. πŸ™ˆ


Happy Saturday you lovely lot πŸ’•

A true Father, to more than just us.

It only feels right to sort out my thoughts in the same way I have throughout all of this.

I am humbled, even through confusion and fatigue, my Dad spoke only to thank and support others in his last words.

He lived his life to serve God and show love to all those around him. He did this until the end.

The amazing letters, cards, emails and texts have been overwhelming these last few months. They all speak of a man who supported them, showed uninhibited love and a devotion in God’s work. 

These words are truly inspiring to me and I am sure anyone who reads them. It is clear he has not wasted a day of his life wanting materialistic or selfish desires, but has only lived for the benefit and happiness of others. 

A true father, to more than just us. 

This is his legacy.

I do not feel anger nor do I feel discouraged in faith. My Dad knew a miracle was at work in him. Prayers were answered. He served well, the seeds were sown, his work here was done.

I feel completely humbled that my Dad was blessed with such a peaceful departure from this life and I am ever so proud of him and everything he has achieved. 

Thank you God.

Thank you for choosing me to be his daughter.

 Thank you for an incredibly devoted and loving Mother who is equally as devoted to serve. Who is stronger than she yet knows and more able than she could believe. 

Thank you for allowing me three wonderful siblings that share this journey with me. That are all sowing seeds of love and kindness to others, following Dad’s footsteps. 

Thank you for helping me find my soul mate early in life, so he could equally know and love my Dad as I do. 

And finally, thank you for friends and family, showing their love, gratitude and support in so many ways.

It only feels right to leave with scripture.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Matthew 5:9 | NIV

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, β€œAnyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”

Mark 9:35 | NIV

I hope all that knew Dad find comfort and peace, and will each continue his work, planting seeds of kindness and love. 

The ‘C’ Word

So it’s been eight weeks since my Dad received the news he had eight weeks to live. I had guessed the C word would come up, I wasn’t surprised by that, I just didn’t think his time left would be measured in weeks. Such a small unit of time.

At first I was more sad than I ever knew possible. Usually I allowed myself this time when driving. I just wailed at the sadness of all this. Balling that he was being taken from us. That lasted two days, I haven’t done that since. 

After that I felt centimental about everything my Dad was a part of, I didn’t want to throw anything away that was a piece of him. Used train tickets, cards, unused video clips… Almost like if I collected enough objects I could preserve my Dad, but life isn’t Harry Potter and horcruxes don’t work in real life. 

Since then I just want to listen to my Dad, soak him all in. Learn his views about things that matter to him. After all he is a very wise man. He can live through me. 

So eight weeks on. The chemo seems to be giving us time, and quality time together too. My Dad is currently in little pain and coping amazingly. Everyday he is finding the joys in life, but he always has. He is very peaceful about death, I am now too. This is something he has taught me these past two months.

You can not be angry about something you can not change, it doesn’t help. Instead accept that death happens everywhere all of the time. In fact it is our only guarantee in life.

 I am thankful it has to happen this way. This way we have time to share and laugh and prepare. I feel blessed. I feel lucky. If my Dad has to die, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

We are being looked after through kind words, prayers and dinners. For this I am also thankful. We are hopeful that we will have more quality time. We are also peaceful that when the time does come, we will be cacooned with the support our friends are already showing us.