The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

Every year I write how this time between him passing and now blows my mind because while in some ways, it does feel long ago, in others it feels relatively recent.

I’ve been having a number of conversations with people about death recently.

People who have lost loved ones and are struggling to cope.

And to them all, I tell them it’s OK to feel that way.

It’s normal because the situation is terrible.

I tell them how it took me until the last week of my Dad’s life to come to terms with the fact he was dying and then a subsequent 10 years to come to terms that he had gone.

I don’t say this because I want them to think they will feel this way for years – because there’s a good chance they won’t – I say this to let them know they’re not weird, or wrong or bad for feeling and thinking these things.

And while I wish the reasons for me knowing this didn’t happen, they did and I feel grateful that I’m able to acknowledge my Dad has taught me as much in his death as he did in his life.

That’s quite a gift when you come to think of it.

It means he’s still with me even though he’s been gone for 19 years.

And while I would still do anything to see him and talk to him – especially as so much has happened in the time he has gone that I’d love to hear his perspective on – I’m so, so happy the memories I have of him are now the joyous ones rather than the hardship he went through in his last few years.

One of those memories is from 1984.

I know it was that year because it revolves around the launch of Queen’s ‘The Works’ album.

Oh I was so excited. It had been a couple of years since their last album – the much maligned ‘Hot Space’ – and the reviews said this was a return to form.

Paul – my best mate – and I had been debating what the songs would be like based on the titles we had read in the Fan Club magazine and all we wanted to do was get our hands on that piece of vinyl.

Then some good news … our local radio station, Trent FM, were going to give away the album to the 10th caller on the rock show that night.

I went home and laid out all the albums on the floor in front of me – sure they were going to ask a question relating to one of their songs.

As the time for the competition came, I got more and more excited.

I tuned the stereo to 96.2FM, ready to pounce.

The question was asked, “What year did Queen write Bohemian Rhapsody?”

I knew this. I KNEW THIS.

As the DJ started playing a Queen song, I dialed the number as quickly as I could.

Engaged.

Urged on by my watching parents, I pressed redial [my Dad LOVED telephones so we always had the latest, ha] …

Engaged again.

And then, as the Queen song faded out, I heard the fatal words from the DJ that they had a winner and it obviously wasn’t me.

Gutted. Absolutely gutted.

Zoom forward the next day and I came home from school.

I came into the lounge and was preparing to watch a bit of TV when my Dad asked if he could listen to a song of his.

[The stereo was in the lounge with the TV]

Of course I said yes, and while Dad was playing with the record player, I just faffed about doing something.

But then something strange happened.

Rather than the expected operatic tones coming out the speaker, there was a drum rhythm … a semi-recognizable drum rhythm … THE DRUM RHYTHM THAT FORMED THE START OF RADIO GAGA!!!

I’m guessing the look of confusion on my face forced my Dad to hold up the album cover of Queen, ‘The Works’.

OH. MY. GOD.

Dad – and Mum – had bought it for me.

An impromptu present because they knew I loved that band with all my heart and was sad I didn’t win the competition from the night before.

It might have honestly been the first time my Dad had ever bought a popular record, but I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug and a big kiss on the cheek.

“Enjoy it” he said … and with that, he walked out the room, leaving me to bathe in the music of my favorite band.

Now don’t get me wrong, my parents were very kind and generous to me … but we never really had much cash to splash, so while they did all they could to make sure I didn’t go without, the things I got most from them was love, support and encouragement.

But here I was with an album.

And it wasn’t even my birthday.

Talk about feeling like you’ve won the lottery.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday and even now, when I listen to that album, I feel a sense of warmth from it … a sense of togetherness and love.

And it’s for that reason I’ll be listening to the album today, because I want to have that feeling again because while my parents ensured I felt their love to last a lifetime, you can always do with more.

I miss you Dad.

I miss you so, so much.

I would give anything for one day to just talk to you.

Discuss all that has happened. Discuss all that is going on in my head. Introduce you to my family. Take you to your garden.

Hold you hand and kiss your head.

It might be 19 years, but I miss you like it was yesterday.

You were the best and I’m glad Mum is with you so you are no longer alone.

Love you.

Rx