Life in a year full of Saturdays: December 2014

Sydney (Australia)
23 December 2014

Yesterday I saw your car parked outside of the house and for a split second, before my brain allowed me to truly remember, I got excited because I thought you were home, and then when I realised what I'd done, I tried to hold onto that feeling of you still being with us for a few seconds longer. I took those few seconds for all they were worth.

I still have the 2014 World Cup chart pinned up on the wall next to my desk, it gives me a chance to assign a day, time and place to the games that we watched. That was our thing. Waking up at 3am, making coffee, watching Australia play or watching any world cup match that we thought might be interesting. Sometimes I'd dose through the second half of games but I'd try and hide it from you, I'm sure that you knew I was sleeping, even when you would ask 'Henry, are you watching?'.

I hated hearing the racing channel blaring at anytime. I couldn't stand the sound of live race calls, but now I wish there was a reason for me to hear it again other than it allowing for me to remember you in my mind. I watch games of football and I know I lack the insight and intuition that you had to be able to analyse a game and see events before they happened. I never quite understood how you were able to do that, but you could do it, just as in the same manner you were able to read the character of a person so much faster than anyone else.

Now I look at photos and can't seem to reconcile the images of you smiling as you sailed on past Notre Dame, or the surprise on your face when I met you in Paris, with the memory of you. For now you exist for me in memory and in spirit, and whilst I'm thankful for all the great memories I have of you I would much rather be talking to you about them rather than thinking of them in order to give context to such a great person that was you, my dad.

So now, I leave this. Times that we shared whilst travelling. I was lucky enough to have had some fabulous moments with you in the last few years and they will stay with me for the rest of my life. This last journey however is one that you must do on your own and I hope that wherever your destination is that you have a chance to sit back, watch a game or two and back a winner. Let me just say that for right here and now, the space that you left is enormous and I miss you being in it, maybe we'll meet somewhere and sometime else, maybe not, but for the last 39yrs you were fantastic person and I feel more than lucky to have had a father like you.