I miss the way I could never have a lie in. Always getting hounded for wasting the day and apparently spending my whole life in bed. I miss the tug of the covers and the throwing of pillows to shift me out of my comfortable duvet den. The morning news on full blast and all the doors open so no-one could get peace. I miss making four eggs, now only making two; just half a portion mushrooms instead of the mountain that we would share. Leaving the washing up and getting penalized for never making my fair effort with the chores. The huffs and the rows about how long a walk the dog needs in the morning; rain, sleet, snow or hurricane. I miss you turning up unexpectedly to join me on those morning walks in you smart shoes that always got muddy. Your deep laugh full of joy when we watched the dogs play. Linking arms with you over the slippery swampy puddles. I miss saying ‘i love you’ each morning as we walked out the door – or ‘I’ll see you later’.
Your phone calls at work to say you were in town, or close to town, or could be in town if I was free for lunch. I miss having our soup and sandwich deal. Always having to ask for extra chutney. The chit chats we used to have about everything and anything, the chip in your tooth that showed when you smiled or laughed. Bringing Woody with you and sitting out side in the sun watching the world go by, tutting at all the young’uns with tattoos and piercings. I miss telling you what I’ve done with my day, the good and the bad and the annoying conundrums. Your wise advice and placid approach. I miss watching you walk away in your same favourite shirts with you arms tucked behind your back, in your brown clarke shoes that you wore so much they were splitting at the soles.
I miss stopping off at the unit on the way home to find you holed up in your office. Papers everywhere and eyes glued to the screen. I miss you asking how my day was and giving me a chinning for something or another that I hadn’t done or had forgotten. Asking what we are having for dinner and when it would be ready. I miss you coming home and complaining how hot the house is, turning off the heating and puffing like its roasting. When I’m cooking and you come and turn the stove down to the smallest flame, giving me a grin because I know papa always knows best. I miss you adding all sorts to the pots, herbs and anything else you found in jars or half going off. The radio being on and us taking over the kitchen and making a mess. Sitting down with a plateful and an even bigger pot full on the stove – knowing we would be eating it for atleast a week. I miss watching the Big Bang and you attempting every time to sing the starting song and never managing to recite it up to the speed. I miss kissing you good night and saying ‘see you in the morning’.
I miss your smell and how it’s haunting your shirts in the wardrobe. I miss your cup on the side with the peppermint teabag which was used again and again. I miss seeing your old fashioned glasses balanced on the crook of your nose. I miss the whistles and chimes of you phone with all the emails and application notifications that you didn’t understand. I miss you telling me off for not walking the dog enough, for wearing too much make up, for watching too much T.V, for not tidying my room. I miss you when you used to envelope me in your arms when I had fallen out with mum or was having a bad day. I miss you when you would tell me to stop crying, to calm down, because nothing can be sorted if you couldn’t here me through all my weeps. I miss you being the one who would always put things right; the peace maker, the builder, the carer, the friend, the one who just wanted the best for everyone – who always gave everything he had to help others out.
I miss you when you would say you love me and I’d say I loved you more – which then was always met with your ‘I’ll love you more than you will ever know’.