Fog, Fishing and Family

Nordjylland, Danmark, Sep 2015 We went to visit Flemming’s father in Northern Jutland for a few days last year. It wasn’t my first visit, but it was the one where I got a sense of the place where Flemming Bo Jensen (who is a Nordjyde) was born and raised, as his father drove us around the region on a grand tour. The…More

Strange Grief: Memories of My Father

30102013. 30122013. I lost my father on the 30th of October last year. He would have turned 75 exactly two months after. The construction of those dates was distressing in those early, not-entirely-compos-mentis days after his death. The asymmetry of 1s. 2s and 3s. Numbers, when neither he, nor I, had ever been people who went by them. It was…More

On dreaming, Dad and chilli crab

The other day, I dreamt about walking into an old style English pub with a rock climbing wall at the back, a dog on a leash, and my father. It’s been 10 months since my father died. This was the first I had dreamt about him in this entire time, which is highly unusual.More

Absence

The thing that haunts me, is how normal my father’s absence feels. Has felt from the beginning.More

On bright stars in dark nights.

2013 was year where my desire to go walkabout with possessions in a bundle at the end of a stick – or a couple of bags in my case – came true. I’ve been on it for a year and a week today, but rather than some far flung locale, I’m writing this post from…More

Numbering loss

My entire understanding of my father’s death at this point, rides on numbers. September 4 – the stage of cancer he was diagnosed with.More

The sound of heartbreak

But how do you get away from the memories? That’s what she’s left with. The missing words to a prayer she can’t recite. Trying to find all that’s lost. – Mark V. Krajnak, from JerseyStyle Photography’s Friday Noir The day before I turned 33, I delivered a eulogy for my father, as his body awaited…More