i remember when i was a little girl, i went on a fishing trip with my dad along the banks of the hawksbury river...i dunno why i tagged along on that particular day, coz i tell you i was born with an aversion to all things fishy..but on this day, i just had to go with him.
of course, i was bored out of goddamned my brain..but that wasn't the point.
i was a little girl, out doing boy things, with my dad.
i had my little bucket..my little reel...and even had my own bag of worms ..i didn't catch anything, of course..but that wasn't the point.
coz i was a little girl, out doing boy things, with my dad.

i don't remember what my mum and sister were doing on this day..all i remember is that i was out with him all by myself - and we were bonding.
as our day came to an end, i ran over to dad in such a rush that i lost my footing and slipped on an oyster bed.
god it hurt..
and i still have the scars..

i remember crying my eyes out..and i remember dad scooping me up in his arms (along with 2 fishing rods, my backpack, and his bucket full of fish) and he carried me back to the car.
he cleaned up my scratches, put on a bandaid, and kissed me better..and amazingly, it was.

as a little girl, my dad was some kind of hero..
he was brave...strong...and invincible...

i always knew my dad was sick, though..that he had a bad heart..but the thought of him one day dying just never felt like a possibility.
sure, he had heart attack after heart attack..he had surgery of some sort maybe once every two years..he was even on the transplant list waiting for a new ticker..
but he was my dad, and the little girl in me always believed that he was invincible.

i don't know why i'm writing all of this..
i know this place is an outlet..but why i felt so compelled to write now, and to write about this, is beyond me..

maybe letting it all out is a good way to start letting it all go





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