If Dad could see me now...

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sPHEY0mEgPSNeUCUWhiz5448rfBh9WxkSxWV1RTiQFkkeiqZw_os152vdhaF-IjS8LIlLGkh-o_Wbvk0F1L2eDv2mND3C5q3eokjAh5XQvEQpJy8SM1zoae9tM_0OgmplkPpHblK6tU/s1600/5367561105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sPHEY0mEgPSNeUCUWhiz5448rfBh9WxkSxWV1RTiQFkkeiqZw_os152vdhaF-IjS8LIlLGkh-o_Wbvk0F1L2eDv2mND3C5q3eokjAh5XQvEQpJy8SM1zoae9tM_0OgmplkPpHblK6tU/s320/5367561105.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>My dad died in 1986. July 19th. His loss was sudden. He went to bed one night and we’d lost him by morning. I was 18, my sister 13, my mum younger than I am now. He is never far from my thoughts. He was the big reader in the family and I grew up with books always to hand. Every other week he would take me and my sister to the library in town. We would get through the door and I would turn left to the children’s area, he would turn right.<br /><br />Now this was an old fashioned library with floor to near ceiling grand book cases in a modern concrete building. In the grown up’s side, ‘my dad’s side’, there was hundreds, thousands, of books that I would look at jealously. Science Fiction was my dad’s favourite. He loved Star Trek, Blakes Seven, Doctor Who, and he took me to see Star Wars in 1977 (for me apparently, we could see right through that!) <br /><br />I was happy over in the child’s section (non-wood, bright plastic!), I only had a child’s ticket but that was okay, I devoured Enid Blyton at a very young age, Willard Price, moved onto Narnia and by the time I was twelve I had more or less moved my way through every single book available in that fairly small area. <br /><br />Then Dad said I could use one of his adult tickets. :O <br /><br />OMG, I was a kid in a sweetshop. I could choose anything I wanted from the mysteries of the dark wood cabinets. I knew exactly what I wanted to read and where I wanted to start. <br /><br /><a name="more"></a>I picked up the first Tolkein book in the Ring trilogy and I fell in love. I probably didn’t understand half the intricacies of the story, but I do know I found the one thing I loved, Heroic Bromance ™. I fell in love with Sam’s love for Frodo, I fell in love with the fact both would sacrifice themselves for the journey and Sam for Frodo. I fell in love with Strider. I read all three books and I cried at the end of book 3. I was probably 13, just starting Senior School (UK version of High School). I have never re-read these books and I never will. They are a shining moment in my own journey to where I am today. <br /><br />Those of you that read these rambling posts I sometimes make, know I love music and that music inspires my writing. A new song is out that has me thinking so much about Dad and what he may think of what I do.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I’m not sure what he felt about GLBTQ—we never had that discussion. In the 80s “AIDs” was where GLBTQ appeared firmly stuck, and I know opinion was polarised. I have no idea what Dad thought then and I don’t know what he would think of me writing MM now. <br /><br />However, I like to think he would look at my writing the same way my mum does (my mum who reads my books). I love to think that he would see I am writing what I love and would be proud of me. <br /><br />The Script have a new song out – If You Could See Me Now. This is the song that is making me think of Dad. I am playing it over and over at the moment. I tend to do stuff like that when I am writing… <br /><br />There is another song though. The Living Years, by Mike and the Mechanics. I can’t actually listen to that song without crying.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SGlkwKA-t_4" width="560"></iframe></div>

If Dad could see me now...

My dad died in 1986. July 19th. His loss was sudden. He went to bed one night and we’d lost him by morning. I was 18, my sister 13, my mum y...

+ Read more »