Sitting on my parents bed, I look up to the empty hook screwed into the ceiling right above my dad’s pillow. Earlier this year he decided, after moving the bed around to yet another part of the room because – “it’s good energy to have your head facing this way” – he had quite hastily installed a massive solid glass pyramid into this hook because apparently this was also really “great for energy flow and life” We figured that a solid chunk of pointy edged glass was probably also “great for falling down and smashing onto someone’s sleeping head” So now it sits, far more securely, on his bedside table.

I see more and more clearly that his every (often ridiculously misguided) action and intention came from a place of creating happiness, good energy and joy. Our dad loves love.

This packed house is silent this morning. I think we are all afraid to whisper because we don’t want the finality of it all to be real. Perhaps if we all hide under the sheets and don’t get out of bed today we will never have to say goodbye and he will magically come back.

But instead of goodbye we know somewhere in our broken hearts that this is simply ‘farewell, until I see you again.’ Besides, my dad would never miss such an amazing party.