Tonight is Robbie Burns night, in honour of that great Scottish poet. But tonight had me thinking about another night in my past.
It was about 5 years ago, maybe less, I struggle to remember now. I was in the UK visiting family and my Dad was sick. Cancer and it’s treatment is tough, you have good weeks, you have bad weeks and you have really fucking bad weeks. This was a good week and for some reason I was in the UK.
Myself, my brother and my sister-in-law went down to see him that night. It was Robbie Burns night and that meant an excuse for haggis, really, truly terrible scotch, Scottish dancing and all that. There are many times when I look back at time with my Dad in those last few years. This was definitely one of those times. He was my Dad at his best, cracking jokes and having fun. Living life to the absolute fullest, while you still have that chance.
We had a great night. That ended way too soon.
Not long after that the cancer came back and that was that.
But suddenly tonight, in a bar in Portland I had these memories of my Dad in a waistcoat cracking jokes and having fun on Robbie Burns night. No-one else in the bar seemed to know what night it was. You’d think Robbie Burns night might get a little bit more appreciation, but hey.
In the many years I’ve been running this blog I’ve never written about my Dad passing away. Here’s the first time. I miss him.
Hey Robbie Burns? Thanks for making me remember that night.