Sunday 21.04.19

Woke up and went for a walk, I talked with Dad at home, I looked out my window where I talk to Dad and in the corner a rainbow, I raced to Ben's room to get a better look. I decided not to tell Ben. I went back to my computer and looked back at the window and it was gone and I thanked Dad. Dad told me I just have to do all this practical stuff and how he had to do it when his own Mum passed.

We drive down to Brisbane, I'm reminded of only a few days ago, just moments after hearing Dad had passed, driving down the same road. I'm filled with anticipated anxiety and grief that comes in gentle and big waves. Ben talks and I tune out.

We meet Ashley the funeral home director, he seems fair and blunt and quirky and makes me feel better, Dad would have liked him. He finishes with gifting us oversized pens, dad-jokes and rambles about a slide metre that I know Dad would have approved of.

The coffin is picked out. The flower plan is in place. The clothes for Dad to wear have been ironed.

Andrew has picked out the music and J is making a slide show and I have to access Dad's bank sometime next week as power of attorney. Later in the day Ben tells me, it's like I have become an adult now. I try calling Aunty Dell, to arrange a time to meet and talk about Dad's past so we can put together his eulogy. I write down to introduce myself as “bobby harding's daughter” because that's how she knew him by. We all know him by something different.

We have lunch and I make sandwiches. It's been hard for me to make or eat anything but suddenly I make myself two sandwiches and I enjoy them and I let myself enjoy them. I hug Andrew and J and tell them I'm always happy to talk with Dad to them. I try and reassure Andrew that Dad definitely didn't want to leave and tell him he should continue to go walking.

J, Ben and I play typing games on the computer and it feels nice to laugh.

Mark, Dad's minister, comes over at two and he is kind and listens to us all, all with different narratives of grief.

Mark and Mum start talking about how Dad felt about Ben, another son. Ben is outside and I ask if I could bring him in to hear because I haven't been able to tell this to Ben. I didn't know.

We talk about the bible beside's Dad's bed with a passage marked out and I asked if J could write it down for me and he does and it's very sweet.

Ben and I drive over to Dad's. The lock is hard to turn, I haven't had to turn it in so many years, always just let in. This time I have to let myself in. I have a plan to take his mushrooms so I can continue to water them but when I walk in, I realise the space is calling me for more grief. I go into Dad's room, where he lay so silently and Ben and I look at his bible and the pages marked

I change my phone's wall paper to Dad's photo.

Philippians 3;12 Running toward the Goal 
I do not claim that I have already succeeded or have already become perfect, I keep striving to win the prize for which Christ Jesus has already won me to himself. Of course, my brothers, I really do not think that I have already won it; the one things I do, however, is to forget what is behind me and do my best to reach what is ahead. So I run straight toward the goal in order to win the prize, which is God's call through Christ Jesus to the life above.

Philippians 4 
How dear you are to me and how I miss you! How happy you make me and how proud I am of you! Show a gentle attitude toward everyone. The lord is coming soon. Don't worry about anything but in all your prayers ask God for what you need, always asking him with a thankful heart. And god's peace which is far beyond human understanding will keep your hearts and minds safe in union with Jesus Christ.

We drive home and the clouds are so hauntingly beautiful, and we talk about the weather and how it's matched my mood and how the world had to step back from joy for just a second and how selfishly that has made me happy.

/I'll be sharing a series of diary entries two weeks around my Dad's death