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Yesterday was fathers-day, at least in a big part of the world. And while I was browsing the blogosphere and stumbled upon more than many blogs on fathers, fathers-day and loving fathers, I grew more and more upset.

My father died last year on the sixth of July and with only a few weeks to go till this anniversary he is very much on my mind and heart. I can’t help but wonder about what I lost and the time we didn’t have together, remembering my childhood with and my growing up without him. And as words of love, thanks and happiness spilt from my computer screen into my lap tears dropped from my eyes onto my keyboard.

But at some point I decided that it changes nothing to be upset about something that you have lost and will never get back so instead I decided to celebrate what still lies ahead of me. I poured myself a glass of wine, broke of a piece of dark chocolate and let The Commitments play.

As I danced barefoot on my own in my living-room and sang loud, off-key and happily along to some good old soulful songs, I remembered happy times in my life, some with my dad some without. I let myself envision a future filled with love and fulfilled dreams, a time so full of laughter and happiness that sorrow would be a forgotten word. But as The Commitments sang “Bye Bye Baby” I twirled back into reality and looked at my dads photo on my bookshelf.

It is of a younger him, one I didn’t know and one that my mother fell in love with. His dark curly hair and beard frame a face I loved so much and he is holding his newspaper in one hand and probably a cigarette in his other, his mug of coffee in front of him and a private smile plays on his lips. And as tears welled back up into my eyes I could hear his voice in my head telling me “to be good”, and as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks I promise him I will try.

And so what if I am a little upset, it is my party and I’ll cry if I want to, there has to be some benefits of a party of me after all.