I wrote this in the car, somewhere between Shrewsbury and North Wales, after a gruelling drive to the morgue to identify my father’s remains.
I say remains. Maybe I should say body, as his body is all that remained of him.
I will write more about my daddy very soon. For now I will share what I wrote in the hours following the discovery of his body, as for me, they encapsulate the rawness of it all
THE WORST DAY
Numb. Cold. Unfeeling.
Hollow, no pulse.
Heart in my throat, still.
The silence that deafens.
Eyes closed against grief.
The touch that holds me as I crumble.
Rest in peace Daddy.