Dealing with Grief

To dad; with Love

Hello all

I have to admit that this wasn’t exactly how I planned on writing my final blog. But at this point in time, all else seems to pale in significance. Yesterday my wonderful father passed away. I’m at the airport in Perth waiting for my flight home…although to be honest I can’t imagine home without my dad.
I know most of my London friends never had the pleasure of meeting him so this blog is dedicated to telling you why I truly had the best dad in the world!

To say that I am a daddy’s girl would be an understatement……I absolutely adored my father, for the pure and simple reason that he absolutely adored me. (Lloyd, Bruce I know you have been living in denial, but let’s face facts you know I have always been his favourite!) My earliest memory of dad is of him coming home from work to our Sundridge house, picking me up, giving me the biggest hug and then letting me sit on his black briefcase…I’m not too sure what it was that I loved about that case but I simply had to sit on it. A couple of years ago my dad read out an old preschool report that he had found, it went something along these lines: “Gayle is a lovely, kind child who enjoys organizing all the other children while playing. ( That’s teacher code for your child is mildly bossy). She is however very proud of her daddy and enjoys telling everyone stories about him.”

As we all most probably know teenagers are never easy, and I particularly had my ways. I can’t count the number of times I would walk up to my father who was chatting with his friends/ family or complete strangers only to have him throw his arms around me in a massive bear hug and bellow: Isn’t my daughter that most beautiful girl in the world?” Usually met with embarrassed smiles all around…..I was consistently mortified and would berate him furiously for it, whenever we got home.
Once while saying goodbye to me at a church camp, surrounded by all my friends…(and the boy I had a massive crush on) he instinctively did it again. Absolutely furious I delivered him with the look of death, and his face suddenly fell, horrified as he realized how embarrassed I was and that he had indeed done it again. It was however at this point that it suddenly dawned on me that my dad was incapable of not declaring his love for me. How lucky and blessed was I to have someone who loved me that much. Needless to say, I never complained again after that.

Of course, having a dad as loving as mine meant that I had to learn to share him with all my friends, he had this wonderful way of making them all feel loved….especially those who had already lost their own fathers. Kelly and Michelle, it was great having you as substitute sisters.


My father, of course, had an amazing sense of humour….. and a great laugh…..I have so many memories of him regaling stories to his friends and laughing that loud, ever infectious, if not mildly raucous laugh. Anybody who knew him knew that there was nothing subtle about Roland Hill’s laugh. As children, my brothers and I loved nothing more than putting Anna and dad in front of an old Laurel and Hardy movie….just to hear them both laugh, together!

I guess its kind of fitting that I end this blog with him…..because as far as my writing goes he has always been my number 1 fan. He has been on at me for years to write a book…although unfortunately he never got round to actually telling me what it is that I should be writing about….maybe that will come to me one day. I started this blog with him in mind……he wanted me published so in a small way this was my first mini- step.
I am obviously heartbroken that I won’t be able to talk to him about my travels in person, but one thing I do know is that he wanted me to do it and that he is proud of me. He was proud of all his children….his belief in us and our abilities never faulted.


There is nothing dad wouldn’t have done for us. When I was 15 I started working at Edward Hotel every weekend. By the time we usually finished packing up, it was 2-3 in the morning…a phone call home and my dad would be there to pick me up. (Wearing his PJ’s, sandals and socks… I might add;-) It amazes me that he never ever complained….he never asked for a weekend off…he just turned up.

As amazing as my wonderful father was it pains me to have to admit he was not perfect. As loving, kind, and caring as he was, and as much as he loved my mum the man was just not particularly romantic…..as I got older and realized this imperfection I tried desperately, many times to reform it. Calls before mums Birthday or Valentines to inquire what he was doing for her, had he bought her a present, flowers, a card, anything? One Valentines I had made him promise me that he would take mum out for dinner. On the follow-up phone call he assured me that he had and indeed taken mum out for dinner. Thrilled that he was learning I then spoke to mum and asked where he had taken her.
Mum seemingly confused asked dad when this ‘so-called’ dinner had been. “Last Friday came the reply
Packing out laughing my mother said “Darling….your father took me to a fete and bought me a hot dog”
I paid R10 for that hot dog!” came my dad’s reply in the background!
That was my dad….not very romantic but always able to make my mum laugh.

At this point, I would like to just say a small something to my wonderful mother. Thank you….thank you from the bottom of my heart. Dad has not been well for a good couple of years now and without your love and care, I doubt we would have had him for so long. We realize it hasn’t always been easy as his dislike for doctors and hospitals was intense. Let’s face it he could be a stubborn man, but you were also a stubborn woman and as a result of your continued persistence dad got to see one of his sons get married, he got to meet his first grandchild and we all had the pleasure of a few more happy memories with our father. I love you and am so happy that I am home to be with you now during this transitional period.

They say that losing a parent is one of the worst things you can go through….and for the past 5 years, I have lived in absolute fear and dread of this day. Now that it has actually happened I have come to realize that watching someone you love in pain and suffering is far worse. Watching them fade away and be unable to do the simple things in life that we so take for granted, like eating or drinking the food they enjoy or having to give up the things that they are most passionate about is truly more heartbreaking.

So we are all at peace now dad and comforted by the fact that you are no longer suffering…..thank you for your unconditional love, thanks for your patience, and for being such an amazing role model to us all. We couldn’t have asked for a better father. I know right now you are in heaven enjoying a brandy and coke, eating cashew nuts to your heart’s content and teaching Uncle Michael how to play golf!

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