Hey Millsy
Thanks for sharing your story. I'm so glad for you that you got to spend that one moment in time with your Dad, in some ways I hope it gave him some respite from the affliction he was cursed with. Do you feel at the time it helped you come to terms with his death having shared the experience?
It did a little, I'm not sure I have totally come to terms with it yet to be honest but I would certainly be more regretful had I not stayed that day.
My father died in a similar manner. He was a a heavy alcoholic, one night whilst walking home he stumbled and landed on his nose causing a haemorrhage that couldn't be contained. My mother had divorced him by this point due to his alcoholism. He was emotionally abusive and she was worried that he would get to the point of making it physical.
Firstly, I'm sorry to hear about your Dad. It took a lot of thinking on whether to post my original post, and I actually considered deleting it after I had posted it, but I'm glad I didn't now.
My Mum hadn't divorced my Dad but they were separated. I don't think she ever feared it would become physical though.
Strangely, at the time that he died they had both kind of learned to accept that he was an alcoholic and live in a kind of harmony. My Dad would come up and stay with her when he wasn't drinking or was but had it under control, then just go again when he started to get out of control. In a strange way, when he died I was sad for them because after years of trying, they had finally worked out some kind of way to get along.
We went on holiday in Turkey over the Christmas period and didn't tell him because he would have tried to stop my sister and I going. When we got back we found out that he had died on Christmas Eve. When he fell he had a copy of the Funday Times (the children's supplement of The Times) with him. He used to collect them and pass them on to me when we met. I went through a long period of my life feeling incredibly responsible not only for his death (wishing I hadn't gone away without telling him) and also being told I was now 'the man of the house', I put a lot of pressure on myself to be a 'man' even though I was 9 years old.
Funny when I looked through my Dad's stuff, he had kept every single ticket stub and program of every single game (both Spurs and Northern Ireland) that he had taken me to over the years. He also used to give me the Funday times every Sunday too!
In the weeks coming up to my Dad's death he kind of went off the radar, neither me nor my Mum could get hold of him. This was a fairly common occurrence though so we didn't think too much of it until it became apparent there was something wrong. My mum ended up finding him, she went to his flat and ended up forcing the door open. The night before then I called to his flat and thought no-one was home. I thought about kicking the door down but didn't, I suppose in fear that there was nothing wrong with him and I would have wrecked his door for nothing. Me and my mum used to always say, no-matter what happened he always seemed to land on his feet, so I suppose I still held a hope that everything was OK.
My biggest regret to this day was not kicking the door in. Originally this was because I thought I may have found him alive, or post collapse and could have done something to save him. Once the PM came back, it was pretty clear he didn't have much of a chance, so my regret turned to the fact that my Mum had to find him lying there. She found her own mother in the same way a few years previous.
I'm an only child, so I felt the same pressures you did. It was tough trying to be there for my mum, act strong, do all the things I was supposed to do even though I had absolutely no idea what they were.
If I'm brutally honest and looking back now after going through some emotional instability myself, my father passing actually had a more positive effect on me. I was too young to have been able to form a very strong relationship with him and the moments he did show affection were usually when he was barely able to string a sentence together. If he was still alive I would have had a much more restricted upbringing along with a very negative male influence.
It's good that you find positivity in it, and I'm glad you've found peace with that. It takes a big person to say something like that and I have to commend you.
In a totally different way it had a positive effect on me too. I was obviously older than you, and grew up in times before it had fully taken hold of him. We had a great relationship when he wasn't drunk. We were probably more like best mates than we were Dad and son. Unfortunately the down side of that was I had to watch his downward spiral. He coached our youth football side, we won everything, he loved it, lived it even. He went from this to basically down and out in a matter of years. I watched him lose his wife, his house, his driving license, his job and eventually his life to alcohol.
But through it all, he taught me some very important things. Firstly, he was the best role model in the world by being the worst role model in the world. I watched him go through what he was going through and I know that will never be me. I still enjoy a drink but no way on earth will that ever be me. He taught me that there are way way more important things in life than money and jobs and that moments with friends are things that you will remember forever. He taught me a hell of a lot about football (which is probably the only thing he will actually care about having taught me!)
Much like your father Millsy, my Dad was a very well-liked by those he interacted with and a highly intelligent man when he wasn't drinking. I visited my family in Jammu after his death and I was met with so many lovely stories about him as a young man, very caring, helpful and an absolutely outstanding cricketer
I've chosen to remember him through these stories, rather than the man who wasted the chance to be a successful father and husband and I feel no hatred or negativity towards him.
One thing I find really helps is hearing stories about loved ones. The bad memories fade quickly, but the good ones never do. I'm so glad for you that you got that closure and the opportunity to hear those stories. I know how much it helps, in the weeks after my Dad's death I could have listened to stories about him for years.
I actually have a friend who plays in the MLS that e-mailed me a few months ago. He asked if I would mind if he got a tattoo to pay homage to the influence my Dad had on his career. To know that he had such an influence on someone at an early age makes me proud. I know that my Dad would also be proud to see someone he coached doing so well playing alongside the likes of Tim Cahill and Theirry Henry (although he probably would have suggested injuring Henry in training!!). Things like that make me happy.
Apologies for going somewhat off-topic with regards to this thread. It's quite cathartic to write this to people I have never met before and Millsy's post obviously struck a chord with me.
Yes, apologies everyone, I have taken this slightly off topic. All I can say is that this is probably the most I have written about my Dad's passing ever. So I think you all for giving me the opportunity.
I wish everyone well and positive thoughts to thingonaspring and all others going through tough times at the moment.
