Father’s Day

Mr BG was engulfed in love, hand made cards and presents for Father’s Day. The weather gods also wished fathers a happy Father’s Day, turning on the sunshine and giving recipients of gardening gifts a chance to head out into the garden.
It gave me a chance to put out the washing for the first time in months on the washing line and to take it inside, DRY. Combined with the trees budding out on the nature strip, and the cherry blossoms on the trees, it felt like it was Christmas day and I was five :-) .

I just rang my dad to wish him a happy Father’s Day. He’s in Donegal with my mum and my aunties Dee and Moya, having a quick break after funeral. They’ll be back to Belfast soon, to an empty house. For a man who had been gradually shrinking, Granda had a presence that could fill a house.
You have your moments still. While running around the Lake earlier in the week, I tripped and fell heavily, badly grazing my left hand. It was painful, but my tears and swearing gave way to gut-wrenching sobs. Something inside me gave way and I finally succumbed to an overwhelming grief, much to the astonishment of Tim, my running partner. I felt a bit drained and tired for the rest of the day, but better for a good cry.

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