Today I am reflecting it’s exactly 7 weeks since my Dad went to the Summerlands, I miss him, and he is on my mind a lot. Not a day has passed since then without tears, I wonder how much longer it will hurt like it does.
I feel him around me at times, and I step into his boots and take long walks around the farm where I feel free to cry, his boots are a little big for me, but it’s become like a ritual for me on the days it gets too tough, off I wander in his boots, they are soft and comfortable and feel nicely worn.
It brings back fond and sad memories of his last hours when I was massaging his feet, and he smiled at me, though he hardly spoke he managed to say I love you Astarte. And I love you too, Dad xXx
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