It's Fathers' Day again.
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Every year now when this day comes around I find myself more and more focused on what it means. What it means for me and what it might have meant for my own father.
Last year I realised I was the same age as he was when he died. Now - a year on - I've spent more time on this earth than he did and the longer I'm here the more I realise how much he's missed. He never saw what I now regard - with the benefit of actually being in it - as the best age of all.
He never fully settled into the prolonged productive and creative later life that would definitely have been his if Parkinson's disease hadn't cut his time short. M