Life without a parent

December 4th 1989 is a date that will live with me forever. I was in the bathroom and my mum broke the news to me that my dad had died. Although expected due my dad having a terminal disease, for a 10 year old boy it was a very distressing moment to take in.

Only a months before his death, my dad was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease.
It is a muscle wasting disease that works its way around the body destroying everything its path.
It took hold of my dad very quickly, the only part of his body that worked was his brain. He was literally locked in a body that did not function. He had to be fed through an intervenes drip. That is no way to live. In a way I am glad his suffering was short lived.

There are many different forms of this disease. Stephen Hawking (the guy in the electric voice) is the most famous sufferer. So when I see people take the p*ss out of him, you may understand a little why it hurts a little.

I was certainly very upset at the time, but in all honestly I didn’t really know my dad. He was a very hard working man, started work early in the morning, arrived home late at night. All to provide a wonderful home for mum, my older sister and myself. Even now I cant remember his voice.

In my adult years, I mainly get upset about my dad suffering so much, knowing he had a 10 year old boy who he would never see mature and experience those things all parents want for their children. That for me is what hurts the most.

Before his death my dad gave my sister a hand written letter before the disease had a chance to take hold. My sister gave me a copy of this letter in my teenage years (i guess when i ready to read it). I have only read the letter once. It was too upsetting. Even writing this blog explaining the contents is hard enough.

I look at the person I am today and wonder if I would be the person I am today IF my dad was alive. That is not to say I like my life now and glad it turned out that way, of course not.

However, I had to grow up very fast at the age of 10. I was the man of house! Part of my childhood was robbed.
After the initial mourning of my dads death, I got on with life. I felt I had to stay strong. I even remember not crying at the funeral.
One thing I did find incredibly hard was going back to school. Some of my school friends were great, some were so very cruel. I guess at 10 or 11 you don’t know the damage you cause to others by being mean / name calling

If my dad had lived, I would imagine I would have taken over the family business (a home brew and greeting card business). I doubt I would have not met the people I have in my life currently (i do have the greatest people around me). Who knows what I would be doing? WHO i would be?

I can deal with only having one parent, after all, I have lived most of my life that way. Its the hurt that it has brought to others in my life. Their happiness is more important than mine.

Follow me on twitter @andymartindale