Letting Go

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Too long
you have been existing,
in the shadows of your history.

Snowmen in the garden.
Your perfect photograph.
Play Mobil on makeshift ski slopes,
she made from snow
on the draining board.

Warm Ribena,
on a sheepskin rug
by the fire.

The most perfect
Christmas Tree
you had ever seen.
Grandma’s old glass baubles.
The cat pulled it down once,
didn’t he?

Mum and Dad’s first CD player.
It was the nineties then.
Deacon Blue and Jimmy Nail.
Slade and Wizard at Christmas.
Band Aid and Chris Rea.

Your first CD;
What’s the Story Morning Glory
You heard your first swear word,
much to your mother’s dismay.
“What are you doing letting her listen to that?”

Your treasured home.
Carousel ponies on the walls,
pink and lilac.
Dad’s car in the drive.
Climbing the tree,
looking for conkers,
digging for worms.

You remember,
when they came home from work.
She would smell of Amarige.
All red jacket and shoulder pads,
perm in her hair.

Dad, in shirt and tie.
Smelling of company car
and cold night air.
You remember how
his ears would make your cheeks cold
when he picked you up,
spun you round.

“Home to my favourite girls”

Before it all changed.
Before the shouting.
Before the briefcase note.
Before that wooden spoon incident.

Before those times
when he would pop to the shop,
“Going for a paper”
and never returned.

Before the time
you sat in the bay window.
New Year’s Eve.
For hour upon hour,
waiting to see his car pull into the drive,
but it never came.

You adored him,
didn’t you?
You never believed
he would leave his girls behind.

You watched her.
Devastated, quietly shrinking,
both in nature and in size.
Smiling through her pain,
for you.
To make you believe everything
was going to be ok.
You got in bed together,
cried together,
grieved together.

But you have to let this go now,
little one.
You are grown now,
and you understand
that grown ups make mistakes.
Not every dream can last forever.
And you can heal
from this pain you carry.
You can heal
from how you miss your old life still.

She changed, they both did.
And you changed too.
You can barely remember what it felt like,
being so happy, as you were.
Barely remember who you were back then,
who you might have been now.

Such beautiful memories
you hold in your heart.
You don’t have to forget them.

Little one, you don’t need to feel sad forever.
And I know it hurts,
whenever you see your phone light up
and you see ‘Dad’.

You don’t have to feel ashamed
that this still hurts you,
even as a grown woman.

You are allowed to feel pain.
You are allowed to miss him.
You are allowed to feel angry sometimes.

It’s ok to grieve for them.
And when you’ve given yourself enough time,
you will emerge again.

And I promise you will feel
a little lighter than before.

 

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6 Comments

  1. *sigh*

    You bring out the reverence in me.

    “makeshift ski slopes”

    I’m familiar with these….grew up on them, actually, though they were more like sleigh-riding slopes….

    Wishing you a lovely day. ❤︎

    Liked by 1 person

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