Half My Life
My dear Dad. You have now been gone for half of my life and I have now, outlived you, by four years, and I am probably going to live a whole lot longer than you did. But still I live my life, with you no longer in it. For all the years you lived, and all the years you never got to live, while I remain; the legacy that you left behind is something I am unlikely to outshine. And while I know I made you proud of me with my fumbling efforts, these days I see more of you in myself, than either of us would have imagined. What I was once embarrassed by, about you - I find that now it amuses me to see those identical, cringe-worthy traits in myself. When I am tailgating slow drivers on the road, I hear you coming out of my mouth, telling the dozy gits to get out of my bloody way. I break speed limits constantly for the satisfaction of being king of the road. Like you, I get up in the middle of the night, to answer calls from someone in need; then I drive off into the darkness to help them.