My favourite human .

My dad.

My favourite human .

Everyone has a father .

And everyone that loves their father probably likes to say that they have the best father in the world .

Two years ago I lost my father in an accident that should have never happened .

Two years ago my family’s life changed forever .

My father was my best friend .

He was my favourite person .

He raised four children with such an understanding love .

In 1985 when I was born my parents (both raised in the city), bought 10 acres in the bush and moved up with no knowledge of bush living.

They built a mud brick home , and we were raised with such a freedom .

My father was a planter of trees , a bird watcher , an artist and the most gentle soul.

He loved baby animals and we would call him the “baby whisperer”, it didn’t matter what baby you handed him, it would fall asleep in his arms .

He was the most non judgmental human I had ever met .

He was the kind of man that could spot a shy, nervous person in a room , and would go over and make them feel relaxed just in his presence .

He had a love for good jazz , and good food .

My fathers family were Russian, and family meant everything .

My mum would cook all day and fill a table with delicious dishes .

We would chuck on gypsy music and dance around and eat .

Two years ago my mother called me early evening , with the news of the accident .

Two years on and I’ve only just being able to start grief counselling .

And I’ve leaned that grief isn’t something that you get over , it’s something you learn to deal with in different ways .

Time helps, but it does not get easier .

I describe this feeling of being extremely homesick , like when you’re a little kid , except you don’t get to go home and feel better .

The one thing, one person I need to take that pain away I can never see again .

I can never hug him, see his cheeky smile , or hear his voice again .

I only see him in my dreams , but waking up from those dreams can be a terrifying reminder that he is no longer here .

I had my wolf tattoo done about 6 months after his passing .

Our family name Vlček, means ‘little wolf’ in Czech .

And so , this is the most significant piece my body will hold .

For my dadda .

grief
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Mimu Vlček
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