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I never knew dad kept a diary. I spoke to Binky,  my step mum earlier this week, and was telling a bit about it, actually, she was telling me about how she was reading about some of their secret rendezvous. This is the part where I put my fingers in my ears, and saying ‘La, la, la ….’. But we had a good laugh.

I think about dad every day, ever time I have short quiet moment, he’s there. It’s just over a year since he passed away, and I’m still heart broken. He wasn’t ready to go, and Binky told me that some of his last words were, “All I want is five more years”. 5 years is a small request for a man who feared death.

I clearly remember the happy moments from childhood, wishing that they would last forever, but know that they wouldn’t. I knew that some day they would be gone. And because I knew that those moments were temporary, I appreciated much more, even back then.

I must remember to ask Binky if she can bring dad’s diary along, (and the hard drive with the many video’s that my half brother, Jamie has loaded). I’m hoping it can jog my memory of moments with my dad, and memories of him that are locked away in my brain somewhere. From the brain to the blog, would be the next step.

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, 8am and I’m lying in bed… Noah’s watching Tom and Jerry next to me on the iPad, and Llewellyn has jumped into the shower and Rikke is in Prague celebrating her 40th with girlfriends. Australia is in the Rugby world cup finals, and here in Denmark, there’s no hope in hell that I can watch the match. There’s the snap shot of this moment in time, a moment that would otherwise be forgotten in a couple of days.

Time to keep track of time again, and put pay attention to this blog… My dairy that the kids and grandkids can read about, when I’m no longer around to tell them about these ‘Good old days’.


Sunday morning sleepin, with a guest, without the one I normally wake up with.