Two Months On

Today marks two months since my wonderful Dad passed away. It's frightening how time stops for nobody and continues on, even if we're not ready to move with it. I hate that it's been just over two months since I last heard my Dads voice, it's not normal and it never will be. I hate how it's been two months since my Dad took his last breath. He was always the most special, always the most precious but he becomes more and more treasured to me as the days go by without him.
I have spent probably my whole life completely deluded into thinking that grief goes like this, 'person dies' .. 'you feel the most intense pain and sadness immediately' .. 'life gets easier as time passes by'. WRONG! It's actually so much harder as time goes on because I grieve different parts of my Dad, different memories and experiences that he's not here to share every day. 
I've been learning more and more about cooking every day during quarantine, you could even say it's become quite a passion of mine now and this is something I am desperate to share with Dad. Dad was always the cook of the house and I grew up on whichever delicious meal I desired that day because I was for sure a Dad's girl, (we don't say Daddy around here, it's super weird), and he would love whipping together anything and everything! My favourite was spaghetti bolognese. He was always bringing the family together with food. We'd be off doing our own thing, but when Dad called 'foods ready!!!', we'd all drop everything hop-foot it downstairs ready for dinner. When Dad passed away, he knew I'd been trying broccoli and now love to eat it, (I have an issue with vegetables but this post isn't about that!), he was so proud of me for that as I've always been trouble with my limited palate. What he doesn't know, is that now I cook with onions, chillis, spring onions and ginger AND I eat it too. I can make my own homemade salt & pepper chips. I made the Wagamama chicken katsu curry, from scratch!! I've perfected my roast potato recipe. I just want to send him the photos of the food and call him up and tell him my exact method, how I chopped it and how proud I am for doing it, all by myself! I know that he would love to hear about it and would be so excited to try it! I promised him I would cook my broccoli for him, and I never got the chance. I'm sure the tenderstem broccoli in heaven isn't as good as mine when I stir fry it with garlic and ginger, but Dad was never a big fan of garlic, so that's okay.

That's just one of the simple things that have left me feeling the massive Dad shaped hole in my heart in just two months of his absence. My relationship with Dad was so much more than just cooking, so I can't even begin to write down the copious other things that hurt my heart every time he's not here to share them with or to talk to him about.
Treasure your parents if you're lucky enough to have them. It's a lifelong stab in the chest to lose one, and then you try to learn to live with the wound. I remember just wanting to wrap Dad up in cotton wool and bring him home, I just wanted to protect him forever and ever. I would give anything for him to be with us. 
So two months later and I'm missing your voice like you wouldn't believe. I'm missing your hugs, I've said it a million times and I'll say it for the rest of my life. I'm missing your comforting words, your humbling words and your guidance. I'm missing your interest, your passion and your intellect. I miss you now and I will be missing you forever.