In Loving Memory

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Dad, this world won’t be the same without your shit-stirring,
humor, talent, and love. 

Dad passed away peacefully on March 31, surrounded by
loving family members. He was taken care of by a
group of wonderful Nurses, who took care of him right until the
end, and made him comfortable and without pain.

He will be missed dearly, and though it breaks my heart that
he is gone, he was an adored man by many, and a beloved father.
I regret not spending more time with him, if only I knew time would
be cut short. Though I am fortunate to have spent those
final moments with, and to say goodbye to him. 

I’ll miss Dad’s big cheeky grin, his laugh, his stories, his shit-stirring,
seeing him enjoying ABBA and Creedence, seeing him beam whenever he talked about fishing, camping, or gold, and giving him the biggest hugs,
a Dad’s hugs are like no other.

Because of Dad, I have some amazing camping/fishing experiences
that are some of my best memories. Dad was like a big kid, always
making jokes, having a laugh, and was the worlds biggest shit-stirrer,
Dad was a gentle, patient man, yet who swore like a sailor. He adored
animals, and treated them like royalty. He didn’t do a lot of cooking, but
what he did cook, always tasted damn good, especially his camp fire
roast pork. Dad was also a talented man, a brick-layer and concreter,
who helped build houses and buildings around Ballarat, Daylesford, And Werribee.

Some of Dad’s final words to me were ‘Be good Lyd, Be a good girl’,
My last words to Dad were ‘Rest well, Dad’,
Dad, wherever you are, rest peacefully, And I’ll see you again
someday. I hope you are as much of a shit-stirrer up there,
as you were here. Love you so much, Dad

Say hello to Pop for me, love from your youngest.

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Dilapidated

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An eerie silence echoes through the creaking
corridor.

Their is nobody home, And no soul to sing
or paint life into the air. No busy
kitchen, with tea and coffee, or
cookies and milk. Their is no light
in the fireplace, And no laughter
in the once lively kitchen.

Furniture still sits within unused rooms,
covered with dust, As though abandoned and forgotten.
Beds are made, but why bother?
Nobody sleeps in the beds, nobody has for ages.

Ambiance roams throughout, causing
a ghost-like atmosphere. It is cold, lifeless,
and empty.

This isn’t a home anymore of memories.

This is just an old house without life. 

Withering away. 

 Decaying.

 Dilapidated.

❤