My dad to the left with his siblings - Aunty Beryl, Uncle Mike, Aunt Ingrid and Uncle Billy

My dad to the left with his siblings – Aunty Beryl, Uncle Mike, Aunt Ingrid and Uncle Billy

Death was always a subject treated with common sense in my family and as such I grew up never worrying about the inevitable – it comes to us all!  However, this year my superhero of a father, Gerry German, passed from this physical world into the heavens of light, angels, good times and reggae.  He went in a style fitting for someone of his reputation – suddenly, without warning although we had been waiting for his fuse to cut out for sometime given his 70hr a week work load at 84yrs of age!

We were philosophical, we were sad, we were busy with arrangements to send him off with a fitting celebration and I was here, over the water on my island home of Mallorca, in my safe haven called Binissalem.  I was fine.

That was May and now, since the end of summer, since the long days have shortened and the grapes have been collected; since the doors and windows have closed us into our organised lives again, I have been grieving.  I miss my dad.

It’s more than him though.  For 20 years I have lived here and 12 years in my spiritual home Binissalem – the home I had been searching for all of my life.  I miss my family.  It’s been a long time to wonder on my own.  Although I would see my parents and siblings every year a couple of times, although I would speak with my dad 3 or 4 times a week when he would call to check in on the boys and me – I miss the family.

I ask myself “why did I think I was an island and could do this on my own”?  Was it fear of intimacy, of being close.  Was it pig headed and stubborn arrogance or even ignorance?

Grieving is a weary sensation.  I am tired and have been since September.  I cry a lot and easily.  I try not to but it comes without warning.  I have locked myself in and it’s hard to open the door at times, but…  it will pass, of that I’m sure.  I am still far away from my family but I still talk with my mum 3 or 4 times a week, when I can find her at home!  I talk more now with the rest of my family and so I am grateful that dad’s passing has given me that.  He’s not here but he lives on and this day I ask him to forgive me for my independent streak, inherited from him!

I love you

I’m sorry

Please forgive me

Thank you.


2 thoughts on “Grieving

  1. Oh Glynis, you brought tears to my eyes. It’s so hard to lose a parent (I lost my mum in 2004) and one of the hardest things is never being able to say those things you should have done when they were alive. Allow yourself to grieve, but I am sure your dad would want you to come through this dark period as soon as possible and to be the cheerful, outgoing daughter he must be have been so proud of. xx


  2. Hi Glynis It was sad and moving reading this blog post. Your dad was such an amazing man sometimes I just think of him and smile. I can’t imagine how it must feel for you. Do allow yourself to grieve girl, nothing wrong with that. But when all is said and done permit yourself to live again and live to the full because that is what your dad would have demanded. Love you much my friend. xx


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