A father's grief

Dad's notebook that I opened this morning

 It's Christmas Eve, 2014, I am sitting at the table at the Loft with its wonderful view and I am surprised yet again by where this writing and blogging takes me.

Just when I thought I had done all the sorting of my Dad's possessions from the flat, I found his postcards, family photos and two notebooks in a suitcase this morning, so I got to look at them today.

The notebooks are not just phone numbers and addresses, but he has used them as journals too.

He has jotted down thoughts between phone numbers, lists, reminders and addresses.

The date 23 August 2001.

His entry is about Clive, his only son, who committed suicide on this date by shooting himself in the head, while parked in his car somewhere in Cape Town.

Dad has always been stoic, he does not express his feelings easily but, as I have come to realise through reading his letters and notes, he feels deeply, he is sensitive and he is able to show an honesty in his writing.

The trauma of the event for Dad is beyond imagining.

He asks the same question we all did, 'why did he not just walk away from it?' and also 'if only he had spoken to me or one of his sisters.'

In the April of 2002, Dad jots down a quick line; 'I have finally put the matter to rest in my mind!!'

There is another journal entry on the 11 February 2003, where he makes reference to Clive's 'deed' and he is clearly still frustrated with Standard Trust. Fred did eventually help him get the life insurance policy paid out.

Reading his thoughts on not just this event, but other family events, is challenging me and triggering me.

A part of me wants to edit, explain or even tear out an offending page.

I am even tempted to throw the book away.

But nobody promised that this 'life in the letters' writing would avoid the sufferings of life and seeing ourselves and the past through someone else's thoughts is not a simple thing and will never be easy.

I can only admire his strength. Letting go of Clive and his story for me has been a long time coming.

Perhaps I too can say as Dad has, I have firmly put the matter to rest in my mind.

Love you little brother.

Clive at the Loft window, visiting Dad.

Dad with Clive in Hout Bay, Cape Town, he wrote "Two proud fathers" next to the photo in his album

For my friend Nikki Twomey, an intersection in our lives which profoundly changed us both....