A New Day A New Start

Today, my father would’ve turned 59. He passed away at home almost four years ago due to cancer related complications. He was a strong person. He was someone I looked up to and obviously respected. He always tried to guide me, but never pushed me. Even when I made selfish, rash, even silly decisions, he would give his honest opinion, but never interfere.

This morning when I woke up, showered and drank my coffee, I kept on thinking, what would my father say to me if he could speak me right now. Well it’s a double edged sword.

I would like to think that he would be proud of me for all the things I have accomplished in the last few years, that eventually I am my own person. That eventually I have started living for myself and not for someone else. That I have started studying and eventually starting to tick things off my bucket list.

There are also things that I know he will not be proud of, things that I have said and done that he would not agree with. I have to face up to the fact that there are things I can change and things that I won’t change.

One of the changes I am going to make has to do with my recent sleeping patterns. It has been no secret that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. And it is no secret that I have been “self medicating” to at least get some rest. But my behaviour yesterday afternoon and my introspection this morning have forced me to deal with the fact that I don’t need to knock myself out every evening. It’s time to put my bruised ego aside and look after myself again.

I came across this quotation:

“Ask yourself this question: Will this matter a year from now? If not, don’t sweat the small stuff”.

So Minks…I’m almost sad to say that there will no longer be midweek drinkathons. Although I do so love sitting on your stoep(patio) listening to the entrancing sounds of your  brother Evan playing the guitar. No more headache tablets in the morning, no more drop offs required from Mr Tang.

Just me.

Happy Birthday Old Fart, where ever you are. Missing you like you cannot imagine.

 

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. lifeinthefarcelane
    Jan 18, 2012 @ 10:29:53

    oh hon, I am sorry about the death of your Dad, I know how you feel * hugs* By the way, the sweat the small stuff book changed my life .. good luck with the changes ahead for you :)

    Reply

  2. slightlyreworded
    Jan 18, 2012 @ 13:46:51

    My father died when I was 10, and now that I’m an adult I think about some of the same things (what he would say about my life if he was still around).

    I’m sorry for your loss.

    Jimmy

    http://www.slightlyreworded.wordpress.com

    Reply

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