A snow day was the last day

Sitting gazing out of my kitchen window, watching the snow gently drift down from the sky, I can’t help but allow my mind to wonder if the snowflakes that are falling are sent from you, sent from the realm in where you now reside, sent with love, sent with happiness. I can almost see the smile that beamed across your face on a snow day, the joy it bought us all, it’s beautiful. As little white gems fall from the fluffy clouds and collect on the ground I remember once being told by you how no snowflake is the same, not one, every single snowflake has its own pattern, its own structure, they are each individual. Sitting with this memory I feel in awe how something so tiny, so fragile, can be so beautiful and carry its own uniqueness, it’s magical. To me, we’re  not unlike a snowflake, we are all individual, we all have our own special uniqueness, we are all weaved so differently inside yet when we are one, like the snow, we become something quite powerful, something that brings back the magic in life, the joy, the happiness…when little things come together as one, they create great things.

Today, the 24th of January, is a date, a memory that I keep close in my heart. One that once felt so insignificant but now feels most important to me. On the 24th January, 2 years ago, was the last day you visited my house. At the time this seemed so normal, it was a “normal” day, nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary, you’d come over to my house often, and I’d just had Gabriel too, he was only 2 weeks old, so to be at my house was nothing but completely common.

When I was younger you used to ask me, my brothers and sister if we could have one last meal, one very last taste of anything in the world, what would it be? Our answers all varied from roast dinners to flavourful curries and our answers often changed, but yours always remained the same…. Quite simply, a fried egg sandwich, on crusty bread, with loads of cold butter and lashings of salt & pepper. I remember always thinking you were absolutely mad, it felt like the most uninspiring choice ever as a final meal, but to you, it wasn’t. It was simple, it was beautiful, it held memories for you within its taste and that for you was it, that one sandwich, that would be your last.

You came to my house on that cold snowy January morning, just like it is today. You looked so poorly, it made my heart heavy, sad, to see you struggle, to know you were in pain but you were putting on a brave face anyway. You sat so peacefully on my sofa, I remember the exact spot in which you sat, I remember the knitted grey jumper you had on and your red scarf and hat, keeping you warm. I remember your smell, that comforting smell that was just you and every time it was there I would instantly be wrapped up in my childhood with you, feeling safe, feeling loved. I remember looking at you holding Gabriel, he was just 2 weeks old, so small, so new to this world. Just seeing the pride in your face, the glassy tears glazing over your eyes, joyful tears, tears of peace, tears of love. You asked for picture after picture that day with Gabriel, I never realised why until now but I’m so glad I took them for you as now they are treasured to me. Before you left to go back home to your bed and rest you asked one final thing from me… to make you a fried egg sandwich. Your final meal choice, at my house, with me. That was the last thing you ever asked of me, the last meal I’d ever make you, the last request to be received, your simple, yet beautiful, fried egg sandwich.

Neither of us knew that was the last time, the last moment, the last photos, the last sandwich I would make you, the last time we would be sat together in my home, but it was. And as small as these things seemed at the time, they are now in fact my most precious memories, encased in my heart for eternity. The memories of a day where the snow fell as it does today, the memories of your seat upon my sofa, your knitted jumper and that insignificant but amazing fried egg sandwich, in my heart forevermore.

I love you, dad, always x

 

When we realise that we are nothing more or nothing less than a snowflake itself, we begin to see the power within each individual thing. All that surrounds us holds its own uniqueness, bringing its own magic to the world we live in. Take the time to notice….

 

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1 Comment

  1. SUSAN GALE
    January 25, 2021

    Beautiful words and thank you for sharing such treasured memories. It is indeed the small and simple gestures that mean the most and imprint firmly in our hearts 💕

    Reply

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