Wonderland Wanderess

  Friday, 3rd June, 2022 Dad's Funeral  Written and read by me Dear Dad,   The old saying goes, ‘It’s better to be late, than dead on time’ … but what happens when it’s both? It breaks my heart to know you left this world without knowing the noise within my mind.   I spent most of my life on an incessant quest to fill the enormous hole inside me, never truly grasping that nothing would ever fit right, because that hole, was shaped like you.   I recall feeling invincible atop your shoulders as a tiny girl; and if I close my eyes, I can still feel your arms around me as a woman—the prodigal daughter—returned to you at last.   This was our dance and we both knew our parts so well. Yet the right words were never said. In the end, each of us slipped further and further away from each other.   But your burden is no longer yours to carry. You are home now, at peace, safe in Nanna’s arms once more.   Rest easy, Dad. I love you.   Forever and always, Your daughte

No human being is entirely good or entirely bad and my father was no exception to this.  Amidst attempted abductions, over a decade of stalking, countless Domestic Violence Orders, alcohol induced rages, bitter custody battles, supervised visitations at contact centres and terrifying untreated mental illness, was the man who did not once hesitate to order seafood pizzas for me, all the while knowing I would eat nothing, but the teensy-weensy baby octopuses off them.     Beneath the outward portrayal of toughness was the dad who took his children to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings and church so we could see he was trying.  Masked by the facade of a performance he had mentally cast himself in as "Father of the Year", was the manic yes-man, in all his grandiose glory, who saw no problem with allowing his son to ride in the boot of the car at his request to, nor with doing doughnuts and burn-outs in the middle of public parks—never mind the blood noses from our faces const