To you Dad, you were stronger than you ever knew – To younger Me, it’s going to work out

My dad was full of humour and a very skilled tiler; that skilled he created animals out of tiles for a swimming leisure centre.

Him and my mum ended their relationship when I was 3 years old. Therefore, I went to my dad’s flat every weekend and stayed with my mum during the week. Every weekend it was just me and my father.

I remember being younger and he would pick me up and go for picnics in the sun at a local nature reserve. Or go swimming where I would be on his back and he would go in and out of the water like a whale.

I always wondered why he would take a sip

He has always been a drinker but hid it well until his license was taken from him and his ability to stand up strong became obvious.

My mum told me over the years he tried to be sober, but it never lasted and she had to put the 3 children and herself first.

Now that I’m an adult, I know where he hid part of the alcohol because I remember seeing a plastic cup filled with cider behind the microwave. I always wondered why he would take a sip.

Good fun memories and hard to swallow memories

I have good fun memories and hard to swallow memories of my dad. He tried to do day to day activities with me but over time it became more difficult for him.

He took me ice skating at a well-known shopping centre in Manchester and decided to just lie on the middle of the ice whilst everyone had to skate around him.

Towards the lead up to my dad’s passing in 2010, I would often wake up to him falling around his flat and unfortunate bladder problems. These all become normal to me.

I never voiced this to family or friends as it was just what happened over the weekend. It was normal to go to the shop across from his flat and wait outside with his Zimmer frame whilst he got 2 large bottles of cider.

I never remembered a time where he didn’t have nose bleeds therefore there was always bloody tissues around the flat, on the bed or on the sofa.

A knock on the door

On Sunday 28th March 2010 I was stood at the window of my dad’s flat waiting to see the car pull up which would be my mum picking me up.

He sat down in a panic and couldn’t stop coughing blood up into a tissue. I ran to get a food container which within minutes filled with blood. Again, because there was always blood around the house, I didn’t panic. We hugged and I went home.

On Tuesday 30th March 2010 I had my normal day in my first year of High School. I went to my friend’s house after school and there was a knock on the door. It was my mum.

She said dad is in hospital, but we needed to go. I picked up a different atmosphere this time. My dad was always in/out of hospital and I always thought he had “bad legs” due to his weak stance.

We got to the hospital, and I went in to see him. There was so many machines and his body moved in waves during every slow breath. His eyes were closed.

I left the room due to getting upset and 2 minutes later he passed away.

I was 11 years old – I didn’t know what alcohol was

I will always remember the nurse coming over to me asking if I understood why my dad has passed away to which my reply was “because of his bad legs”.

She tried to explain the reasoning of alcohol and what had happened to his body, but I was 11 years old. I didn’t know what alcohol was, he was just my dad. She handed me a leaflet on bereavement for children and to this day 16 years later I still have this leaflet.

Addiction is real and raw

My dad loved me and I can confidently say that. I empathise with him. I’m not mad or angry. Addiction is real and raw. Nothing in this world can make a person turn off their addiction, only themselves can do this.

Yes, I absolutely miss him, all these years later but I embrace every emotion I feel when it comes to grieving my father. And that is why I’m raising money for Nacoa. I want children to feel all their emotions and continue to have a helpline available to call whenever they want.

Lessons learned

I’m a mother myself now, my dad would absolutely be beaming with pride. If there is anything I can teach my daughter, it’s to be kind because you never know what someone is battling.

To you dad, you were stronger than you ever knew and you have taught me so much even after your last breath.

To younger me, it’s going to work out. You are going to thrive; in your career and creating your own family with an extremely safe place called home.

You will grow to understand addiction and the frustration, anger and sadness will slowly ease until you realise the strength you have.

Abbie

Abbie is taking part in the Jubilee Bridge Half Marathon & 10k in June to raise funds for Nacoa. Please visit her JustGiving page to find out more.

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