An anniversary 21/3/13

 When I talked to J about the idea of closing the original 'Mumbling...' and turning it into a kind of 'best of', just the positivity and the creativity she mentioned that the best bits were the bits about family.

This is about J's dad. Who was bloody great.

Four years ago today we lost J's dad. He was 64, he'd taken early retirement and he wasn't even given the chance to enjoy it.

Tommy Wainwright was a big man. Not tall, solid but not heavy, he just had a big presence. His friends  looked to him, he had a quiet authority and a quick wit that drew people to him, he would be the centre of a room without being demonstrative.

He was a proper father in law. Practical, able to get things done. Helped with all the 'man' stuff that I'm useless at. I spent a long time just slightly in awe of him. He was a proper adult. Except for when he was with the grandkids. Then he was the biggest kid on the planet. He was a mischievous grandad. A fun grandad. He was a great grandad. Before he was old enough for school our Matty basically grew up in Tommy and Sheila's. Grandad and grandson, best mates the two of them.

When J and I got married we had a bit of a 'do' in Tommy and Sheila's house the day after, opening gifts, that kind of thing. We went on honeymoon for two weeks. When we came back the party was still going. Tommy knew how to celebrate life and family. A couple of weeks after we returned, my one and only comic piece was published. Tommy told me he was proud of me. That was a hell of a moment.

J told me once that though she had brought a couple of boyfriends home before me, I was the only one that he ever thought was good enough for his daughter. That is one hell of a compliment.

He was sick for a week before he passed away, a cough, a shortness of breath. I was on a late shift on the Thursday so I gave him a lift to the doctors that morning. Sheila had told me he was feeling better. He got in the car. I said 'so you feeling better then Tom?'

"Am I shite, lad." Straightforward, to the point, sharp. He knew he was ill but he wasn't going to worry anybody. He passed away on the Saturday. His funeral was delayed and took place on April 1st. He'd have appreciated that, it would have appealed to his sense of humour.

J was with him when he passed. She can take comfort from the fact that nobody could have done more to help him than she, her mum and her brother Tom did. He wasn't alone, that's important.

J has said this morning that she hasn't got over it, she probably never will, but she's learned to cope. That's probably as much as you can hope for.

And the thing is, you can still feel him here. He might not be with us any longer and we will all miss him every day but he's not gone. Not really. You'll see him in things that J does, you'll see him in the way that J's brother Tom is turning into his dad more every day, as we all do. You see him in our Matty and in our Tom. Our Tom, named after his grandad because they share the same birthday. Our Tom who I've just realised still has the order of mass from his grandad's funeral pinned to his wall, his photo on the front. "I've never taken it down" he told me.

You never lose your loved ones, you carry them with you forever but it doesn't stop you missing them.

We miss you Tom.

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