27/10/2026
24 years ago today, my dad died. ❤️
Twenty-four years. How the hell did that happen?
Dad was a joker (see photos!), a keen fly fisherman (see photos again!), and an incredibly talented artist and silversmith (sadly, no photos, but I could find some...). He spent his working life teaching others to create, yet never really seemed to see just how talented he was himself.
Funny, isn't it, how we can see gifts in other people that they struggle to see in themselves?
I've been thinking today about the things we inherit from the people who came before us. Not just the obvious things, like a particular laugh, a shared sense of humour or a love of making things, but the less visible stuff, too.
The beliefs we hold about ourselves. The patterns we repeat. The things we carry without ever quite knowing where they started.
It's one of the reasons I'm so fascinated by ancestral work and the stories that sit beneath the surface of who we are. Sometimes, understanding a little more about where we've come from helps us make sense of where we are now.
I don't pretend to have all the answers. But I do think there's something rather wonderful about recognising the threads that connect us to those who came before us.
Today, I'm thinking about Dad. His humour, his talent, his fishing, stopping on every bridge he drove across to go and p*e in the river and talk to the fish...and all the other things that made him him.
I wish I could have one more conversation with him.
I truly wish he could see the 3 brawny blokes I've managed to bring into the world.
Although, knowing Dad, he'd probably find a way to take the p**s out of me for getting all sentimental, whilst weeping floods of tears himself. 😂❤️