Without you

It’s Christmas next week, and for the first time I will be celebrating it without my father. It is difficult no doubt, but I try to look beyond the emptiness and focus on all the fond memories I have of the many Christmases we had together.

I particularly missed setting up the Christmas crib, and so when my landlord told me he was participating in a crib competition, I jumped at the opportunity to help him. This was a God-sent opportunity, and as I slogged through the evenings getting creative with mountains, boulders, trees and stars and the hundreds of tiny things that go into making a decent, competition-worthy nativity scene, I couldn’t help reminisce about the times my father would come and pause and watch me work. Often he would suggest changes to be made, help me around with sourcing stuff; he would also grumble about the mess I would make (more because my work space reduced his walk space) and the time and effort I would put into this.

So this one is for you dad.