Perhaps the most touching moment at my dad's funeral yesterday was when a member of his art club gave me this sketch of him she drew in the late 90s and had kept hold of all these years. Seeing his face when I opened the folder made me cry, predictably. I know it's an obvious thing to say in the circumstances and being given the drawing underlined it, but I want him back. The last few years were overwhelmed by his illness and robbed us of time, both during and after it. The breaks in the clouds were few and far between and, while we did all we could to steer him through what we could control, we were ultimately defeated, which is a shit way to end the story, but then that's life. And now I'm trapped in a situation I know would have upset him deeply that I have to navigate in his memory and could do without the pressure on top of the grief. But that's a story for another time. There was a lot to treasure yesterday, despite the difficultness. Firstly, the ...
A blog from the actormusocomic. "Devastatingly witty" (EdFestMag)