05/09/2026
Happy Sunday...
It is Father’s Day today, though somehow it hasn’t quite felt like it. I’m not sure why. Perhaps life has simply been too busy to properly notice the date until it arrived.
I did manage to buy matching pyjamas for Lach and his Dad. Really, they both needed new PJs, so it was probably more of a two birds, one stone kind of present... but I’m counting it!
My own Dad has been gone for more than thirty years now.
There are still moments when I catch myself totting up all that he missed, and all that we missed by not having him here. The big things, of course, but perhaps even more, the ordinary things.
The conversations around the dinner table. The hugs. The laughs. Early morning breakfasts in bed, cooked by Dad. The marching band record playing far too loudly. Watching Lach grow up. Seeing who we all became.
And yet, just as often, I’m struck by how much of him remains. How much can still move through the world simply because he was once in it.
They say I’m a chip off the old block. But Lach... Lach sometimes feels like something closer to a return.
That same easy empathy. The same big, unguarded heart. The same ability to make people feel comfortable. That quick wit that catches you off guard before you’ve quite realised you’re laughing.
It’s a peculiar kind of grace, watching someone you love carry pieces of someone they never had the chance to meet.
I wish he had.
But there is something incredibly comforting in knowing that love, and goodness, and all those little pieces that make a person them, don’t simply disappear. They find their way forward.
So Happy Father’s Day to the dads who are here, to the ones we miss, and to the ones we go on loving from a distance.
And to Darren, who gets to wear matching pyjamas with a fourteen-year-old tonight whether he likes it or not!
Here’s to a great day... whatever you get up to.
Caroline X
Image: My Dad - Brian Jones X