Last year, I held a fundraiser for the Leukaemia Foundation in memory of my Dad, marking five years since his death. Today, it is six years since he passed away. The following is what I published on the event’s website, so it is a re-blog of sorts. Feel free to spread the love and visit the Facebook page also (Captain Coonan’s Catch a Cure for Leukaemia Night). Please know that I have seen exactly where the fundraised money goes to within this great Foundation, and head on over to their website and make a donation today!
I was originally going to post this on Sunday, marking 12 months since the event on the 24th May, 2014. In that time, there are still people regularly ‘liking’ the Facebook page and visiting the website. There was a final cheque deposited to the Leukaemia Foundation for $207 back in December (memorabillia coolers sold after the night), bringing the absolute final total to $39,934 fundraised. Not a shabby effort, hey?
However, with today being the 22nd May, it marks 6 years since Leukaemia got the final word on Dad, and I think this is a more poignant time to express some thoughts.
I am not a huge fan of emotional or motivating quotes, I’d much prefer to laugh out loud at something funny – but that’s just me. However, I read the following in a novel and it was exactly what I was thinking, but hadn’t quite been able to put into words:
The sadness of bereavement never disappears but one moves slowly to a place of peace.
In terms of the Coonan family, we have all dealt with Dad’s death in one way or another. But never think that a person can just “get over” a loved one dying. There is too much history to simply throw it all away and forget about it. We move on, but we still love and remember in our own way, every day.
We were in Taroom on the weekend just gone, for Tim and Georgina’s engagement party. Although this time we didn’t stop and visit Dad’s grave, the kids got great pleasure from waving to Poppy as we drove past the cemetery. Perhaps next time we will drop in, and Sophie (my youngest child, born after Dad died) will be the next in my kids to try and lift the headstone to see Poppy… There was quite a funny moment not long after Dad had gone and we were at the cemetery. Before we had left to go there, I had mentioned to the kids that we were going to see Poppy. And so of course, when you tell a not-quite three year old that, and then you tell them that he is in the ground, well… of course they want to see that! I’m pretty sure Dad would have been up there somewhere laughing his guts out.
It’s 5 o’clock now. Time for a drink on a Friday afternoon. Cheers, Dad.
* Joining in with the Weekend Rewind over at Maxabella’s 🙂